


Karma's A Fake Orgasm

by gracie137



Series: Revenge Is Best Served Horny [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, BROners not boners, Blow Jobs, Everyone is a human disaster, Fake Out Make Out, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Flirting, Foolish Activity By All, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, Kissing, Lots of Fake Sex, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Public Display of Affection, Revenge, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Temporarily Unrequited Love, UST, excessive stupidity, idiots to lovers, so many sex jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-09-02 18:43:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16792585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracie137/pseuds/gracie137
Summary: There’s another abandoned mug, festering with mould in the living room — Steve offically has the world's worst roommates. And complains about them. Often. Bucky, tired of his lack of action, decides it’s time to avenge Steve's sleepless nights and unsanitary conditions once and for all. They’ll pretend to be the world’s most annoying couple: excessive PDA, loud fake sex, and general repugnance. The plan sounds easy enough; it will be strictly platonic. Or will it?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm back with another labour of love and this time it's this bad-boy. 
> 
> This fic is inspired by my own feelings toward my roommates -- the mug story is real -- and the idea for the fic came to me as I angrily cleaned the kitchen. It was meant to be about 4k of stupidity, but it's not, instead these assholes got all feelsy and I was powerless to resist. 
> 
> All tags are sorted, and there will be brief (throw-away) mentions of past relationships but they're not relevant to Steve/Bucky's story
> 
> Forever thanking the incredible TDcat for being a brilliant beta, and also Syn who has helped beta and just generally encouraged this fic to grow into the thing it has become
> 
> Enjoy!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky come up with a plan to fix Steve's roommate problems

Bucky’s door swings open to reveal a rather amused looking Sam.

“Please,” Steve whimpers.

“Third time this week, Steve.”

“I’d say sorry, but you’re up anyway.”

“Do I want to ask?” Sam knows better than to engage with Steve while he’s running on this little sleep.

Steve shakes his head. He doesn’t have the energy to recount Tony and Clint’s exploits. Last night, Tony stayed up till fuck o’clock in the morning making strange sounds in his room that Steve doesn’t need to know about. And then Clint — who can take his hearing aids out and not hear a thing — had woken at arse o’clock when Steve was still trying to sleep to have horrendously loud sex with his new girlfriend, Natasha.

Steve likes Natasha, he really does. However, he’s kinda terrified of whatever she and Clint get up to in the bedroom that leads to _those_ noises being produced. Steve’s not exactly a lights off, under the covers, missionary style guy but they still leave him shocked.

“God, I can’t leave you standing pitifully on the doorstep. Get your puny ass inside, and stop looking like a kicked puppy.”

“Thank you,” Steve gushes. He’s sure he looks awful. He’s in a pair of flannel bottoms and an old sweatshirt, and he hadn’t even bothered to look in the mirror before heading over to Bucky’s — he’d just rolled out of bed, grabbed his glasses, and stormed out of the apartment.

“Barnes is still asleep,” Sam says as Steve makes his way over to the couch.

“Lucky fucker,” Steve grumbles.

“Lazy fucker more like.”

Steve shakes his head, curling up in his usual corner. “I’m too tired to be mad at him.”

“You’ve really gotta sort this out, man,” Sam sighs. Steve offers him a weak but grateful smile when he chucks a blanket over him. “You know we’re always happy to see you, but this ain’t sustainable.”

“Just wait till I tell you about the mug.” Steve’s been watching that mug for a week now, he thinks Clint’s trying to discover new life in it.

Steve’s eyes start to shut, but he still catches Sam’s wince. Evidently, Sam knows Steve’s roommates well enough by this point to know whatever’s in the mug ain’t good.

“How long you want me to let you sleep?”

“Hour or two?” Steve mumbles, pressing his face into the couch cushion.

“I’ll have Barnes wake you up, I’ve got class before then.”

Steve thinks he says thanks, but he’s not sure because sleep’s already taking over; the cushion smells slightly like Bucky’s aftershave, and he’s just so tired.

When he eventually comes to, he hears the dull buzz of the TV and the rhythmic tapping of typing. Bucky’s sat beside him in a pair of sweats and not much else, frowning at his screen.

“Struggling?” Steve asks, smirking as Bucky jumps. He stretches out, wincing as his neck clicks. Sleeping on Bucky and Sam’s sofa isn’t doing wonders for his back, but it’s better than the sleep-deprived zombie he’d have been otherwise.

“Physics is a bitch, nothing new.” Bucky shrugs, frowning at Steve as Steve pushes himself up, back cracking loudly. “Sam told me not to ask about a mug?”

“No, please ask about the mug.” Steve wants nothing more than to rant about the mug.

“Okay then, tell me about the mug.” Bucky grins, small and crooked, but Steve can still see the worry in his eyes and knows Bucky is just biding his time.

“Well,” Steve begins with relish, “there’s this mug in front of the couch that I’ve been watching for about a week now — and I’m pretty sure it belongs to Clint but Tony isn’t entirely off the hook — and it’s half filled with what might be coffee, and I’ve been waiting for someone to pick it up. Ya know, proof that someone other than me bothers to clean our apartment, but nope, it’s still sitting there, and when I checked on it last night, it had officially grown mold! My living room has become a laboratory.”

“Didn’t Stark turn it into a lab when you first moved in?”

“Not one that grew new life forms!” Steve glares at Bucky and pinches his side.

Bucky squirms, batting Steve away. “Okay, yeah, nah, that’s grim. And Sam rags on me for leaving the toilet seat up. We’re both dudes.” He’s trying to make Steve laugh, but Steve decides to be an ass because it’s more entertaining.

“There is no excuse for leaving the toilet seat up,” Steve says primly. His mom’d always taught him that, and it’s a lesson that’s stuck in his head. Also it gets the reaction he’d wanted when Bucky kicks his leg. “But yeah, my roommates don’t put the seat down, _and_ they build new ecosystems in my mugs.”

“Which mug?”

“The one with the dog chasing a rainbow.”

Bucky pulls a sympathetic face; he knows how Steve feels about that mug. “Did you ask ‘em to clean up after themselves?”

“I left a sticky note on the coffeepot saying _remember to clean me up after drinking—”_ Bucky snorts. “—what?”

“See, this is your problem, Stevie.” Bucky taps away at his laptop for a second or two before putting it on the table so he’s giving Steve all his attention. “You’re too goddamn nice.”

“I’m here complaining to you! That ain’t nice!”

“Yeah, you’re here complaining to me and sleeping on my couch instead of telling Stark and Barton to sort their shit out.”

“I left—”

“Stevie,” Bucky repeats, “the note doesn’t count.”

Steve scowls and crosses his arms. “Well, what am I meant to do? I can’t help being a brilliant roommate.”

“Just gotta act like a shitty one, show ‘em how annoying it is.”

“Well in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have anyone who I can have loud sex with, or lounge around the house in various states of undress with.” If Steve’s honest, Clint’s and Tony’s relationships aren’t the worst part. Their slovenliness and loud noises and their inability to think of anyone other than themselves are what get him the most. Steve understands that they’re busy with work, but so is he!

“So fake it.” Bucky leans forward to stare at another equation.

“By myself? Yeah, that’ll be real con—”

“Well, I could always help if ya’ needed.”

Words fail Steve as he stares at Bucky, who is still looking at his stupid laptop. Steve’s brain is processing about a thousand things in ten seconds as he tries to work out what Bucky’s suggesting.

“Only if you wanted,” Bucky says, continuing to not look at Steve. “It’d be a way of giving them a taste of their own medicine.”

“By…?” Steve waits for Bucky to fill in the gap, because Steve’s brain is slow on the uptake right now — perhaps he’s still sleep deprived. Or he’s dreaming, because he can’t believe Bucky’s suggesting what Steve thinks he is. “Are you saying you’ll fake having sex with me to piss off my roommates?”

Bucky shrugs, a small jerk of his shoulders. Steve wishes Bucky would look at him. How interesting can a physics equation be? “Yeah, fake fuck, fake date, fake whatever.”

“Fake date?” Steve echos.

Bucky finally looks at him, face as nonchalant as if he had merely suggested they watch a movie. “Yeah, we can pretend to be that couple that everyone hates and make general nuisances of ourselves till they pick up their act. I’m pretty sure it’s the only way they’ll actually treat you the way you deserve.”

“They’re not bad guys.” Steve feels inclined to defend them.

“I know that. Doesn’t mean they haven’t gotten lazy ‘cause they’re used to you letting them get away with it.” Bucky grins. It’s his wide handsome grin that Steve’s watched a multitude of boys and girls fall for. “Besides, Becks always says I’m an obnoxious dick, so might as well put it to use.”

Steve can’t believe Bucky’s suggesting this. He can’t believe he’s genuinely considering agreeing to it. It’s mad, it’s ridiculous, it’s—

“I’m in,” he says. Bucky’s grin grows.

Bucky grabs his laptop and opens a new document, because if there’s one thing Bucky Barnes loves, it’s making lists. If anyone else had suggested this plan to Steve, there’d have been no way he would have believed it could work out, but Bucky’s a meticulous planner. Besides, Tony already refers to him as Steve’s boyfriend, so it won’t be too hard to convince them that they’d finally taken the plunge.

Steve and Bucky have never been like that. Bucky’s brilliant: he’s handsome, charming, smart, funny, and one of the nicest people Steve’s ever met, they’d just never had a romantic vibe between them. After all, when they met, Steve was dating Peggy, and Bucky… was being Bucky.

They’re best friends, and Steve likes that. Despite his initial shock at Bucky’s suggestion, Steve now understands that this could really work. It’d be awkward with anyone else, but this is _Bucky_. Steve’s never awkward around him.

Steve had met Bucky through Tony back in the middle of his first year, and they clicked instantly. Then Bucky introduced him to Sam, and the three of them became nearly inseparable. Steve loves Sam, but it’s Bucky who reminds him of home. They’re both Brooklyn boys born and bred and bonded over complaining at length about the quiet that surrounded Marvel campus. Sam and Bucky had asked him to live with them for this year, but Steve had already agreed to live with Tony and Clint. A decision he now regrets.

He loves his roommates, he really does. Clint’s a great guy despite the loud sex and lack of hygiene. He’s always up for a laugh and _always_ listens to whatever Steve has to say, never making him feel like he’s getting worked up over nothing. And Tony, for all his Tony-ness, is… well, he’s Tony. He’s loud, abrasive, and sometimes gets caught up in his own world, but he’s also the guy who rebooted the entire building’s ventilation system to make it easier on Steve’s asthma.

“So, gimme the most annoying things Stark and Barton do.”

“Well, neither of them ever clean the bathroom.”

“Unless you want me to piss in places other than the toilet, not much I can do about that one.”

Steve rolls his eyes and kicks his feet up onto Bucky’s lap, digging his heels into his thighs. Bucky doesn’t even flinch. “Okay, fine. Well, there’s the mess they both leave around the house. Clint never picks up his food, and he and Natasha are constantly on the couch! They just sit there playing video games all the time!” Steve would like to watch his nature documentaries on Tony’s oversized TV sometimes.

“Okay,” Bucky says, typing quickly. “So we’ll beat them to it. Some Netflix and chill, and then I’ll whoop your ass in Mario Kart.”

“So basically do what we do anyway?”

Bucky smirks. “Trust me, you haven’t seen me Netflix and chill yet.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Steve rolls his eyes again. “You’re so romantic. I’m lucky to be fake dating you.”

“Hey, my Netflix and chill game is great!” Steve gives Bucky a pointed look until he sighs dramatically. “Fine, whatever, at least you know who the god of Mario Kart is.”

Even Steve knows better than to challenge Bucky at Mario Kart. He’s freakishly good at it.

“So what else does Barton do that’s annoying?”

“Has loud sex. Tony’s worse with that one though. I walked in on him trying to go down on Pepper on our kitchen counter the other day.”

“Bet Pepper was happy to see you.”

“She nearly killed him for not realizing I was still in my room.” They grin at each other. Pepper taking Tony to task is always a sight to behold.

“Okay, so we’ll fake some loud sex, some public stuff, make a general nuisance of ourselves. Dance parties at three am?” Bucky says.

Steve laughs. “Sorry. I didn’t know we were becoming twelve-year-old girls?”

“Did you not have dance parties at twelve?”

“Only child with a mom who left for work at four am.” Steve doesn’t feel the need to remind Bucky that it’s not like he’d had any friends to join him either. Steve still finds it shocking sometimes how easily he’d managed to make friends at college. “Did you actually have dance parties at twelve?”

“Look, until I was like fourteen, I did like everything Becca told me to. I let her put makeup on me, so I can assure you I danced to _High School Musical_ whenever she demanded it.” Steve doesn’t fully understand the world of siblings, but he loves hearing about Bucky and Becca’s relationship anyway. Also, Bucky as a doting younger brother is adorable.

“I bet you were so pretty.”

“ _Were_? Fuck you, I’m still pretty in a good rouge lipstick.”

Steve doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with the image of Bucky wearing red lipstick, so he swallows and moves on. “So why are we dancing at three am?”

“‘Cause we’re doing some spontaneous baking.”

“Pretty sure you’re just using this as an opportunity to live out a rom-com.”

“What’s the point of fake dating if you don’t get to push it to the extreme?” Bucky asks. Steve supposes Bucky’s never been in a long-term relationship and has shown no interest in being in one either, and if their aim is to irritate Tony and Clint, then they’re going to have to take it as far as they can.

“I do make amazing chocolate chip cookies.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bucky says before getting back to his list. Steve leans forward, resting his chin on Bucky’s shoulder as they finish up making their list of ways to be irritating. The plan is absolutely mad, but Steve thinks it might just work.

“Who are we telling the truth?” he asks later while Bucky’s investigating lunch possibilities.

“Truth?” Bucky echos from where’s got his head stuck in the fridge. “Grilled cheese?”

“Gluten,” Steve reminds him, “and yeah, like who are we gonna tell that we’re not dating ‘cause it’ll be pretty dumb if we convince Clint and Tony we’re dating only for someone to contradict them ‘cause they saw you pulling at a bar.”

“I’ve got your gluten free bread in the freezer, and obviously I’m not going to hook up with other people if I’m fake dating you.” Bucky turns, grinning over his shoulder. “I’m a very loyal fake boyfriend.”

“I can’t ask you to be celibate for me.”

Bucky sighs like he can’t believe Steve’s shit. Steve thinks he made a valid point; he can’t ask Bucky to put his own needs on hold just so Steve can get one over his roommates. “One, do you want a grilled cheese or not?” Steve nods. “Okay, and two, this was my idea, you ain’t asking me to do shit. I’m offering.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No but’s, Steve. You being able to live happily in your own apartment is way more important than my dick getting wet. Besides, we’re gonna have loads of hot loud fake sex, so if you think about it, I’m actually gonna get laid even more than normal.”

“Fake laid.”

“That’s the best kind.” Steve is powerless to do anything but smile at the stupid grin on Bucky’s face. “Way less clean up.”

“Gross,” Steve says because it’s easier than telling Bucky how thankful he is.

Bucky laughs. “Anyway, realistically, we’ve gotta convince the whole group if we’re going to pull this off. Go hard or go home and all.”

“You think we can convince Sam we’re dating?”

“I reckon it won’t be that difficult.” Steve wants to know exactly what Bucky means by that, but Bucky’s not facing him, so he can’t tell. He supposes they get a lot of jokes that they’re already together or practically married, so maybe people will just believe it because it’s what they want to hear.

“Yeah, Tony already calls you my boyfriend, so he’ll believe it easily”

“Tony Stark, genius extraordinaire.”

Steve laughs because Tony is the smartest person Steve will ever meet, but sometimes he really needs things spelled out for him.

“Okay, so what’s our story?” Steve asks.

“Story?”

“How we went from best friends to realizing we had feelings for each other?”

“I dunno, I imagine it’d be something like the feelings have always been there, but we weren’t aware, and then something happened to make us aware, like… like… alcohol!”

“Stop making alcohol your answer for everything.”

Bucky sticks his middle finger up but keeps his back to Steve.

“Nah, I’m thinking realistic. Say we went out to a bar, initial plan was to be each other’s wingmen, and so we’re dancing and doing shots, but we can’t see anyone we’d rather be spending our time with so we start getting closer and closer as we dance because we’re a bit sloppy and a lot happy from the booze, and then it hits us that the reason we’re not interested in hooking up with anyone else is ‘cause we want each other. Actually maybe one of us knew this before, like say you were pining for me—”

“The fuck do I have to be the one pining for you?”

Bucky groans. “Fine! I was pining for you, and then you’re standing there smiling at me super close and then alcohol gives me the courage to lean in and kiss you, and you’re like _what the fuck,_ but then you realize you wanted to kiss me too, and _bam!_ we fall into a relationship. Love is real and everything is great.”

Steve’s jaw is on the floor by the time Bucky’s finished speaking, because it’s perfect. It’s got enough romance that it’s sweet, but it’s also not too whimsical and over the top. Bucky’s a natural storyteller, so Steve shouldn’t be shocked. He’s got a way of twisting words so that everybody’s listening, and everybody’s onboard.

“We’ll go out tonight, have a couple of drinks to make it worthwhile, then head back to yours and pretend to have some raunchy sex that they’ll both hear — they’re both in tonight, right?”

Steve nods before remembering Bucky has his back to him. “Yeah.”

“Okay, so we’ll have our loud passionate sex because now that we’ve figured out we want each other, everything’s falling into place, and we’re making up for lost time, blah blah blah. Walk outta your room tomorrow morning looking visibly fucked after another round when Clint’s awake so they’ve both heard us, and they’re caught hook, line, and sinker.”

Steve can picture it: they walk out of Steve’s room to see Steve’s very shocked-looking roommates who will buy the story without a doubt. They still think Steve’s an apple pie momma’s boy who doesn’t lie ‘cause the Big Book told him not to. Really, they deserve to be tricked for that alone.

“I think this might actually work.”

Bucky leaves the kitchen area with two plates of grilled cheese. “Of course it’s gonna work, it’s me and you.” Steve takes a bite and moans because Bucky really makes the best grilled cheese. “Practicing the sex noises, I like it.”

Steve hits him, because it’s more polite than speaking with his mouth full, and settles back onto the sofa when Bucky reaches for the remote.

He’s excited for tomorrow morning, excited to finally show Clint and Tony how irritating they can be. Also, having a legitimate excuse to hide at Bucky’s means he can spend less time at his own place and leave them to wallow in their own mess.

He’s sure they’ll clock on quickly. He and Bucky will probably only be at this a couple of weeks, and then they’ll laugh it off and go back to normal. Bucky pulls Steve’s feet back into his lap, and Steve realizes that convincing people they’re together really won’t be much trouble at all.

* * *

Steve tries to ignore the pounding on the door as he focuses on his sketchpad for a good two minutes before he caves. He makes a mental note to tell Bucky that part of his boyfriend duties will be banging on the door as loudly and obnoxiously as he can whenever Steve isn’t in so that Clint and Tony have to answer it.

“Forgot my key,” Clint says, ruffling Steve’s hair as he strides into the living room.

“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t screwed on.” Natasha sighs and gives Steve an apologetic look. “I don’t know how you cope with him.”

“You’re the one dating him.”

“Yeah, so I can leave whenever. You’re contractually obligated to live with him for a year.”

“I’m right here!”

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten,” Natasha says, looking exasperated. She still lets Clint pull her down beside him on the couch, squeezing his thigh once, before letting go. They’re not much for PDA and if it weren’t for the fact that Clint was one of Steve’s closest friends and he’d had heard them having horrifically loud sex more times than he could count, Steve probably wouldn’t know they were a couple.

They’re a couple who communicates through the art of small touches and unspoken things, and not just in sign-language — Natasha and Clint can have an entire conversation with their eyebrows. 

They make Steve miss being in a relationship, he hasn’t had a serious one since Peggy. Sharon had been short lived, so they never got to that intimacy level, and Steve’s aware that Brock had been mainly physical… and a mistake.

“Any plans tonight?” Clint asks, turning on the TV as Steve heads back toward his room. “Tony and I are thinking pizza.”

“Thanks, but I’m heading out with Bucky.”

“Dream team!” Clint throws his fist up in the air. “You get that ass!”

“Whose ass? James’s?”

Steve will never get used to Natasha calling Bucky _James_ — even if it is technically his first name. He’s just not a _James_ in Steve’s mind. Everything about him screams _Bucky_. He’s also never going to get used to the fact that Natasha and Bucky used to fuck back in first year — Bucky’s tendency to overshare is the tragic reason Steve can picture Natasha and Clint’s kinky bedroom activities so vividly.

“No,” Steve says, “I won’t be getting Bucky’s ass.” Although tonight he will be… kind of. “I probably won’t be getting any ass.”

“Don’t put yourself down! You’re five foot of sexy.”

“Five seven,” Steve scowls on reflex.

“If you’re five seven then I’m six foot,” Tony announces, appearing from his room with a suspicious burn mark in his old band shirt and his hair sticking up like he’d just stuck his finger in an electric socket — Steve wouldn’t doubt this.

“If you were in your room, why couldn’t you have let Clint in?”

Tony pauses and stares at Steve as if he doesn’t understand the question. “‘Cause you did it.”

“Yes, but I was busy.”

“So was I,” Tony says, gesturing to himself.

“That makes it seem like you were jerking off,” Clint says, snickering.

“I was jerking off my brain, gotta keep the juices of genius flowing.”

“Please never say anything like that again.” Steve sighs and shares a look with Natasha, lamenting Tony’s and Clint’s existence. “Anyway, just a reminder that I am not your doorman and have my own life.”

“Yes, yes, your existence is very valid,” Tony says, waving his hand in dismissal. “When shall we order pizza? I’m hungry.”

Steve makes himself list five reasons why he _does_ like Tony before rejoining the conversation when Clint asks:

“If we order, will you want some?”

“Wait, why is Steve not eating with us? We’re engaging in roommate bonding as he always requests, and now you’re telling me he’s not even going to be here for it?”

“He’s out with Barnes,” Clint replies.

“Ah, date night.” Tony clicks his fingers at Steve. “Gotcha.”

“Still not dating,” Steve says. Convincing everyone he’s dating Bucky will probably be easier than it is to convince them he’s not.

“Well, have fun on your not-date date.” Tony puts his phone to his ear. “Want us to get you a pizza for when you’re back?”

“Yes, please!” Steve says. It’ll be nice to have cold pizza to munch on while he and Bucky figure out how to fake having loud sex. Good brain food.

He finishes up his sketching and then gets into the shower. The shower is Steve’s favorite part of the apartment, and he’s thankful to Tony for that too — Tony likes to upgrade things when he can’t sleep… which is often.

He stands there, letting the pressure ease the tension from another rough nap on Bucky’s couch out of his shoulders. He’s looking forward to seeing the end of that couch, or at the least returning its purposes to more casual things like watching films or having his ass kicked at video games.

He catches the sound of a knock at the door and then voices as his roommates and Natasha greet Bucky.

“Gimme five!” Steve yells loud enough for Bucky to hear through his door.

“You making yourself all pretty for me, doll?” Bucky calls back.

“You know it, sweetheart,” Steve replies, before realizing this is exactly what Bucky meant when he said it wouldn’t be hard to convince the group they were dating. All they had to do was act like themselves but more… romantically inclined.

Bucky’s perched on the arm of the couch offering unwanted tips to Natasha, Clint, and Tony who look increasingly frustrated every time Bucky opens his mouth.

“For the love of all things sweet and holy, please, remove your boy toy from my presence,” Tony begs as his player dies.

“You know that wouldn’t have happened if you’d just—”

“James!” Natasha growls.

“Ooops, watch your left,” Bucky says. “They nearly had you there.”

“Steve, I will pay your rent for a month if you take him out of the apartment now,” Tony says. Steve knows he would.

“How about we leave and you remember to clean up your pizza boxes?” Steve counters. He has no interest in Tony’s money, but he would like to return home to a living room that doesn’t stink of pizza.

“Done.”

Bucky sighs, unfolding himself from the couch and grinning over at Steve. He looks good — he always looks good — but even better than normal. Bucky‘s styled his dark hair into what he likes to describe as artful sex hair, and he’s in a white v-neck tee and black skinny jeans so tight they look like someone has painted them on.

Steve grabs Bucky’s leather jacket and holds it out for him to take as they walk out the door, calling their goodbyes to the squabbling group on the couch.

“You look like you’re trying to get laid,” Steve says, once they’re alone in the elevator.

Bucky smirks. “Yeah, well I’m feeling lucky.” He nudges Steve’s foot with his own. “You look good too.”

Steve smooths down the front of his shirt. He looks like shit compared to Bucky. He’s his usual tiny self in a floral button-down, and he’s still wearing his thick glasses because he’d figured he wouldn’t be drinking enough to bother switching to contacts. “You have to say that.”

“Nah, I don’t,” Bucky says. “Not your boyfriend yet.”

“Jerk,” Steve mutters, elbowing Bucky in the ribs. “At least we know that you can wind Clint and Tony up easily.”

“I’ve a gift.” Bucky shrugs, laughing. “I’ve literally never played that game before.”

“What?” Steve gapes at him. He’d seemed like an expert.

Bucky smirks. “Say anything confidently and people will believe you.”

“Who taught you that one again?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs again. “Menace.”

It’s Steve’s turn to smile smugly. Bucky had nearly murdered him for sneaking them into a poli-sci lecture just so Steve could debate with a visiting Republican congressman. It’d been worth it.

The elevator door dings open, and Bucky turns to Steve. “You ready to fall in love with me?”

“Aren’t you supposed to warn me not to fall in love with you?”

“Where’d be the fun in that?”

The bar’s decently busy for a Wednesday night, but Steve can’t think of a time he’d seen Shield Bar anything less than buzzing. It’s the main student bar, and aside from the murky few who prefer Hydra, the students of Marvel are loyal to it.

Bucky leads them through the crowd to a booth at the back with practiced ease before vanishing to get their drinks.

Steve makes himself comfortable and tries not to cringe too much at the club classics that the bar is blasting out. Steve doesn’t like to consider himself too much of a music snob, but there’s something about the generic music circling the charts that really grates on him — in comparison, Bucky loves it.

Steve thinks they need to think up rules to ensure that this fake-dating thing works. They can ham up the flirting and tactile nature all they want, but they’ve also got to think of things such as kissing: how much, when, if they’re both comfortable with it, should they have a sign for when they want to kiss, if they will use tongue—

“Here you go,” Bucky says, cutting Steve out of his kissing-filled thoughts. He slides Steve’s vodka lemonade across the table and keeps his own vodka cranberry in his hand.

“We need to make our plan more watertight.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Steve glares at him. Bucky laughs and leans in so they can talk better over the music, his lips glistening in the light like he’s already had a shot at the bar. Steve wouldn’t be surprised. Bucky has to drink almost double the amount Steve does to end up at the same level of intoxication. “Okay, okay, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that we need to think everything through properly. Maybe even bring in safe words?”

“Safe words?”

“If we’re in couple mode and one of us doesn’t feel comfortable, then I think it’d be sensible to have a way of stepping out of the moment.”

“Like calling the whole thing off?”

“No, just asking for space in that moment.”

“Okay,” Bucky says slowly before shrugging. “Sounds good to me.”

“So my safe word can be…” Steve purses his lips and looks around the bar waiting for inspiration to strike him. Bucky watches him with heavy-lidded eyes. “Or I could have a question or some kind of conversation starter?”

“You could mention gluten? Or give a nut fact?”

Steve glares at Bucky again. “Are you going to take this seriously?”

“I am! Come on, you talking about one of the thousand things you’re allergic to isn’t common — ‘cause it’s boring as shit — but it also wouldn’t be that weird if you did mention it.”

“What, so if I’m feeling uncomfortable just throw out a gluten fact?”

“If you can’t think of better.”

“Fine,” Steve sighs. “I’ll bring up allergy facts, but I’m not happy about this.”

Bucky sips his drink failing to look innocent. “You’re the one who wanted safe words.”

“I know.” Steve still thinks the safe words are a good idea, but now he’s desperate to give Bucky an equally stupid one. “Any ideas for yours?”

“I could mention nut facts?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Don’t you mean absolutely nut?”

“I will break up with you.” Steve points his finger at Bucky.

Bucky clasps his hands to his chest and looks aghast. “But our fake relationship is the most important thing in my life!” Steve sips his drink and waits for Bucky to stop laughing at his own awful nut joke. “Okay, I’ll be serious.”

“You could say something in Russian?”

“What, quote some Tolstoy? Yeah, that’s real casual.”

“Well you do actually study Russian, so it wouldn’t be that bizarre. No weirder than me randomly bringing up gluten.”

“So you’re a nut freak, and I’m a pretentious douche?”

“Pretty much.”

“Eh.” Bucky grins and finishes his drink. “The aim is to be annoying, I guess. Might as well have our safe words be annoying too.”

Steve finishes his own drink and stands to get the next round. “Think up some other things we need to think about,” he tells Bucky, wandering into the crowd.

He thinks desperately about all the stuff he wants to prepare for. He’s never felt uncomfortable in Bucky’s presence, but putting the safe words in place have put him at ease.

He buys them the same drinks again, remembering at the last second to get Bucky a double vodka so he won’t have to endure Bucky sighing dramatically about Steve basically giving him water.

When he returns to the booth, Bucky’s no longer alone. There’s two girls in Steve’s seat, both leaning across the booth vying for his attention. Steve hands Bucky his drink with a wry grin. This is exactly what he’d meant when he’d said there was no way Bucky could commit to a fake relationship with him. Bucky hadn’t been able to wait for Steve to get back from the bar before finding two girls to take his space, and the night had hardly even begun.

“Thanks, babe,” Bucky says, wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulder. Steve and the girls stare at Bucky with their mouths open.

“No worries?” Steve manages to get out.

“Oh, are you two like—” one girl gestures between them.

Bucky shrugs, squeezing Steve’s arm. “Yeah.”

“Omg, you’re so cute,” the other one says. “How long have you been together?”

“Not too long,” Bucky says. Steve takes a large sip of his drink and tries to understand what’s going on.

“How did you meet?”

“Mutual friend back in second year,” Bucky continues, “so we’ve been good friends for a couple of years and then it just kinda hit us recently.” He gives Steve a dopey smile, and Steve just about manages to not spit his drink all over the table. “And we’ve been making up for lost time since.” He presses a sloppy kiss to Steve’s temple. Steve continues to gape in an ugly manner, and both the girls laugh when Bucky says, “Stevie here hates PDA, but he’s too damn irresistible for me to help myself.”

“Urh, I want a relationship.”

Steve gives them both a weak smile as they say their goodbyes and wander off again.

Bucky drops his arm from Steve’s shoulder and leans back, a shit-eating grin on his face. “God, I’m a natural.”

“Bucky,” Steve says slowly. “What the fuck was that?”

“I was just getting some practice in. I’m pretty good at this whole boyfriend thing, aren’t I?”

“You’re an ass is what you are.” Steve groans, punching Bucky on the arm.

“Ow!” Bucky pouts. “It seemed the best way to make them leave us alone so you could finish talking tactics!”

Steve admits Bucky’s probably right. Bucky’s an attractive guy, and without a clear sign of him being off the market there was a chance those girls wouldn’t have taken the hint. Here, Bucky had shut them down easily, and without hurting anyone’s feelings. Also, bringing a queer relationship into it, there was always the chance they could’ve left because they were uncomfortable. Steve doesn’t like to be too cynical, but he’s more than aware that it happens.

“I can tell you know that I’m right,” Bucky says. Steve rolls his eyes rather than having to agree with Bucky out loud. “Anyway, you need to work on the whole being into me thing ‘cause right then you looked like you were dating your cousin and had just realised that it was kinda incestial.”

“That’s so specific,” Steve says. “What the fuck?” Bucky shrugs, looking strangely proud of his weird simile. “Also isn’t it incestuous?”

“What?” Bucky frowns.

“Incestuous, not incestial.”

Bucky groans loud enough for Steve to hear him over the music. “One, who knows? And two, who cares?”

“Probably those who fuck their cousins,” Steve says, managing to keep his face straight until Bucky chokes on his drink. “They probably care.”

“Fuck off.” Bucky grins. “Anyway, my point was that you need to up your game. I’m not that undesirable, am I?”

“You took me by surprise! I wasn’t expecting to have to act like I’m into you right now!”

“Have to,” Bucky echos, letting out a bark of laughter. “Don’t do me any favors, Stevie.”

Steve pulls a face. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Bucky finishes the rest of his drink and drags a hand across his mouth. “Right, anyway, you got any more official fake dating thoughts?”

“How are we going to tell everyone?”

“Well, we’ve got your roommates covered. Tony’ll probs tweet about it ‘cause he tweets about everything, which’ll help most people find out. If Sam doesn’t find out that way I guess I’ll have to sit down and tell him.”

“And you’d be comfortable lying to him like that?”

Bucky purses his lips. “If you need me to, then yeah.”

“Maybe I’m not comfortable making you lie to Sam like that.” Steve loves Sam. Sam is one of the most genuine people who Steve’s ever met, and he’s Bucky’s other best friend and roommate. It’s a lot of lying, and Sam would probably want to talk to them about the relationship because Sam’s a good guy like that.

“He’ll tell us we’re being stupid,” Bucky says. “If we tell him the truth.”

“When’s that ever stopped us?” They share conspiratorial grins, and Bucky laughs. “Though, when’s that ever stopped him.” It’s true. Sam would try to get them to see sense, and when he realized he couldn’t, he’d join them.

“He could be a useful asset.”

“Okay, that settles it,” Bucky declares. “I’ll tell Sam tomorrow when I get back from yours.”

Steve nods and finishes his drink when he realizes Bucky’s finished his again. Bucky buys their third round, and once they’re both happy with the plan they go back to chatting about everyday things, and it’s like nothing’s changed at all.

Nothing _has_ , Steve reminds himself. They’ll only be putting on a show for their friends. Otherwise it’s business as usual.

“Right, shots and dancing,” Bucky announces once they’re finished their latest round, and Steve thinks it’s a marvellous idea. The alcohol in his body is making him feel light enough that the music isn’t grating anymore. It’s pleasant, in fact. It’s uplifting, and watching Bucky belt out the lyrics of every song is hysterical. Bucky is electric on the dance floor; his hips move in a way that everyone’s powerless to look away from, and he moves between people, catching their eyes and hearts for just a second as he smiles. Steve’s watched more people than he can count fall in love with Bucky for just those few seconds on the dance floor.

They’re both sweating heavily when they take a break by the bar, Steve buying them their final two shots. The alcohol burns his throat, and he can barely swallow it, but he’s grinning, looking up at Bucky, whose dark hair is damp around his temples. Bucky smiles back at him, eyes bright in the lights.

“You know what this moment would be,” Bucky says, leaning in close to Steve so he can hear him over the music. Steve shakes his head. “If our story was real, this’d be it. This would be the moment I’d lean in and kiss you.” Bucky leans back, his laugh swallowed up by the music. “Remember the details! It’s all part’ve the story!”

“I have to tell people that you kissed me to…” Steve pauses, trying to catch the song playing. “Ariana Grande?”

“I’m romantic like that.” Bucky grabs his hand and pulls him back onto the dance floor, where he sets his hands on Steve’s hips and presses close, only leaving a slim gap between them. “Or maybe this would’ve been when we’d kiss,” he yells in Steve’s ear.

Steve laughs. “Shut up, Buck!”

Bucky tilts his face up to the ceiling, the coloured lights catching on his cheekbones before he looks back at Steve, a smile on his face. “Let me know when you’re ready to go.”

Steve shoots him a thumbs-up in reply and loses himself in dancing again until his hair’s stuck to his forehead, his glasses keep sliding down his nose, and the bar’s so busy that he can barely move.

He gestures toward the door, and Bucky nods, following Steve through the crowd until they’re outside in the street breathing the cool air.

“Ready to go have some wild fake sex?” Bucky asks.

“Born ready.”

Steve doesn’t live too far from the main bar so they walk back. They’re more drunk than either of them had intended, so they agree it’ll do them good to sober up — they need to be slightly more coherent to ensure they mess nothing up in the plan. Then again maybe being drunk’ll help, make them more clumsy in a way that drunken hookups are.

He talks Bucky out of buying a burger with the promise of the pizza, and they’re in the elevator when Bucky asks:

“So how do we start this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Should make some noise in the general living space as well. Slam the door? Maybe knock over a kitchen stool? Swear a bit?”

“How are we doing that?”

“Well, I could, like, carry you and then drop you?”

“Why the fuck would you carry me?”

“You know.” Bucky gestures before sighing. “Okay,” he says, stepping closer and resting his hands on Steve’s ass, causing Steve to jump, his eyebrows shooting up. “Now, you jump up and put your legs round me.”

Steve shoves Bucky’s chest. “No way!”

“I’ll catch you!” Bucky assures him as if that’s Steve’s problem with the whole thing.

“No, you won’t ‘cause there will be no carrying of any sort!”

Bucky steps back, hands in the air. “Fine, no carrying.” Bucky has the audacity to look sulky, but Steve ignores him.

“We’ll go in like we’re making out, make a bit of noise, then go into my bedroom for round one of loud sex, which doesn’t have to last that long because you know pent-up emotions, then I’ll run into the kitchen, slam my door behind me, get the pizza, maybe slam the fridge as well for luck, and then we’ll put some Netflix on in my room and eat our pizza while continuing to make loud sex noises until we’re satisfied.”

The elevator door dings open, and Steve catches Bucky looking at him with wry amusement.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Bucky shrugs as Steve gets his key out. “Just thinking about how unfun you’re making this fake sex thing. Very formulaic.”

“Well, how would you do it?” Steve asks, throwing the door open and marching into his apartment. He turns around when he hears the door slam, only for Bucky to grab him and push him up against the door. Steve’s words die in his throat as Bucky bangs a clenched fist against the door and lets out an obscene moan. Steve’s pinned there, utterly speechless at the wicked smile on Bucky’s face.

“Guess, I just prefer a little spontaneity,” Bucky murmurs, staring down at Steve.

Steve can hear the challenge in Bucky’s tone and, well, there’s only ever been one way he reacts to a challenge.

“God, yes,” he groans obnoxiously, not looking away from Bucky.

“That’s more like it,” Bucky says, letting Steve push him backwards and into the kitchen counter. Bucky grunts, hands banging on the surface behind him.

Steve spots Clint and Tony’s abandoned pizza boxes on the counter and scowls. “Knock them off,” he hisses.

Bucky obliges with another ridiculous noise that has Steve biting his lip to stop himself from laughing.

Steve keeps pushing Bucky backward through the apartment, and is in pain from his desperation not to laugh at Bucky’s antics when Bucky kicks the wall beside Tony’s room.

“Yes,” Steve repeats, a guttural sound. Bucky looks like he’s trying as hard not to laugh as Steve is.

“Want you now,” Bucky says. “God, please Steve.”

“Yes,” Steve says, because he thinks if he tries to say anything more it’ll become choked out syllables as he loses his battle to laughter. Bucky grabs Steve’s hand and drags him into Steve’s room, the smack of the shutting door echoing around the apartment. Steve takes one look at Bucky before collapsing into his chest, burying his face in Bucky’s neck to try and silence his laughter. He can feel Bucky pressing his face into Steve’s hair, body shaking. Steve doesn’t move until he knows that he’s got his laughter under control, and even then all he does is let out a loud whine.

Bucky pushes him away. “You shit!” Bucky whispers. “Makes it sound like I’m sucking your dick.”

Steve winks at Bucky and makes the same sound again. “Oh yes, that! Do that!”

Bucky drops onto Steve’s bed, middle finger up. Steve grins and sits down beside Bucky and continues making noises until Bucky wrestles him down and starts making his own noises. The two of them flail about the bed until they’re out of breath and almost as sweaty as they’d been at the club.

Eventually, Bucky lets out a shout that Steve’s supposes is him trying to make it sound like he’s having the world’s loudest orgasm. If anyone made that noise in bed, it’d give Steve a heart attack, but Bucky just has Steve choking back another laughing fit as he makes his own orgasm noise before collapsing down on his bed, grinning.

“Think we woke them up?” Bucky asks, turning to face Steve, a matching smile on his face.

Steve pulls his phone out of his pocket to see messages from Tony and Clint demanding to know what the fuck’s going on. “Yeah.”

Bucky closes his eyes. “That was the best fake sex ever, but now I’m starving.”

“I’ll go get the pizza,” Steve says, standing up. “You get Netflix sorted.”

“Wait!” Bucky jumps up after him. “You need to look fucked!”

“Why?”

“In case they come out of their rooms,” Bucky says.

Steve pulls a face. He hadn’t thought of that.

“Undo your jeans,” Bucky commands. He tugs Steve’s shirt off while Steve pulls his pants down. Bucky runs his hand through Steve’s hair a few times, before standing back to admire his handiwork. “Still not…”

He glances around Steve’s bedroom and grabs the blanket from the end of Steve’s bed. “Wrap that ‘round your waist.”

Steve obliges. “All good?”

Bucky frowns. “Something’s still…” He stares at Steve’s face, head cocked. “You remember your safe-word yeah?”

“Gluten?” Steve asks, confused.

Bucky leans in slowly and Steve gazes up at him. Bucky’s hands rest on his arms, thumbs rubbing soothing patterns, and Bucky pauses just a breath away. “You trust me?” Steve nods because this is Bucky. He trusts Bucky with every part of him. Bucky closes the gap, lips pressing gently against Steve’s for a second before sucking Steve’s bottom lip into his mouth, teeth digging in. Bucky releases Steve’s lip and repeats the action before letting go and stepping back.

“All good.” Bucky nods, letting go of Steve’s shoulders and falling back on Steve’s bed, grabbing Steve’s laptop from the floor. “Want to continue that documentary?”

Steve nods dumbly, still gripping the blanket. Bucky’s no longer looking at him, so Steve hurries out of the room, needing a moment to compose himself, yanking the door shut loudly.

He’d just been kissed by his best friend. He’d known it was going to happen — they were fake dating after all. Officially now. It’d just been a surprise.

He’s nearly back in his room with the pizza when Tony’s door flies open and he pokes his head out, scowling. “Absolutely thrilled you’re getting a nice bit of ass, Rogers, but some of us are trying to sleep here. I’ve got early lectures tomorrow.”

“Sorry.” Steve shrugs.

Tony’s sharp eyes dart around the apartment, and his scowl’s replaced by shock. “Who is giving you the best sex of your life?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Steve drawls, opening his door. “See ya tomorrow, Tony!”

“Rogers!” Tony barks as Steve hurries into his room, shutting the door behind him and locking it before Tony can try follow him and ruin it. Bucky’s lying on Steve’s bed, and he’s shucked off his jeans so he’s just in his boxers and t-shirt.

He reaches for the pizza, grinning lazily up at Steve. “Mission successful?”

Steve settles in beside Bucky and grabs his own slice. “Mission successful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that and are excited for chapter two which I will be uploading either Sunday or Wednesday!!
> 
> Kudos and comments are the best things since sliced bread
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@gracie137blogs](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com) if you want to talk about the fic or anything !!!
> 
> If you enjoyed please do promote the fic on tumblr by reblogging this [post](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com/post/180660689685/fic-karmas-a-fake-orgasm)


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky deal with their friends reactions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these idiots more than i love myself at this point

Steve wakes up with a fuzzy head, Bucky’s heavy arm draped over his chest and none of Clint’s strange sex noises.

Mission successful indeed.

He picks his phone off his bedside table and smiles happily to himself at the explosion of messages on their apartment group chat from Tony and Clint demanding to know what was going on. Natasha must have woken Clint up, which meant they’d all been forced to listen in to Steve and Bucky’s three rounds of rigorous fake sex.

Tony’s latest message of _APARTMENT MEETING!! NOW!!_ and Clint’s reply tells Steve that they’re both up.

“Buck,” he whispers. “Buck!”

Bucky grumbles in his sleep and presses his face into the pillow, nose wrinkling.

“Come on.” Steve pokes the spot on Bucky’s ribs where he’s ticklish. “We’ve got another round of sex to go.”

“Someone has gotta teach you about foreplay,” Bucky mutters.

Steve pinches him for that one.

Bucky opens one eye and glares up at Steve. He doesn’t break eye contact as he reaches one hand behind him, grabs onto Steve’s headboard and knocks it back against the wall. He does it repeatedly, building up a rhythm.

“Was that so hard?”

“There’s a dick joke there, but I’m too tired.”

Steve rolls his eyes and moans, proudly showing Bucky his phone screen when another screaming message from Tony pops up.

“Your roommates are so hypocritical.”

“Big word for someone too tired to think of a dick joke.”

“What can I say,” Bucky says through a yawn. “I’m a smarticle particle.”

“I hate when you speak.”

“A scientist would’ve appreciated that.”

“Yeah, well, I do art.” 

Bucky grins dopily, still banging the headboard. Steve props himself up, and together they watch a YouTube video until they decide they’re done with this round of sex. Bucky let’s out a series of grunts that has Steve hiding his face in his pillow to stop himself weeping.

They go about making themselves appear fucked, which has Bucky spraying water in Steve’s face and Steve dragging his hands through Bucky’s hair whose bed head isn’t too far off fucked anyway.

“I should give you a hickey,” Bucky says causing Steve nearly to trip over as he pulls on his sweats.

“What?”

“The kind of sex that we had without any hickeys is unrealistic.”

“I haven’t had a hickey since I was eighteen.”

“That’s like three years ago! Come on, let me give you a hickey! I want to see Stark’s face when he sees it!”

Steve grabs his glasses from his desk and sighs. “Fine. Just get on with it.” Steve puts his hands on his hips and arches his neck, glaring at Bucky who grins at him from across the room.

“You sure know how to get a guy in the mood.”

“Thanks,” Steve deadpans, as Bucky crosses the room and cups Steve’s face with one hand. He uses two fingers to lift Steve’s jaw a little more and meets his eyes as if to check Steve’s okay. “Not gonna nut out,” Steve says.

Bucky snorts before bowing his head and attaching his mouth to Steve’s neck. Steve’s always had a sensitive neck, and Bucky’s going to town, teeth grazing Steve’s skin as he sucks and licks before standing back to admire his work. His lips are shiny and red, and Steve imagines this is what Bucky looks like after he’s kissed someone properly — not the peck Steve got last night. Or perhaps they’d be more swollen normally… 

Bucky presses his thumb into the spot on Steve’s neck and swallows. Steve snaps out of his daze.

He steps away from Bucky and goes to check the hickey in his mirror. It‘s already bloomed up because Bucky’s apparently an expert.

“That’s fucking huge!” Steve hisses, turning to glare at Bucky.

Bucky blinks at Steve before grinning. “Oops.”

“Shirt off,” Steve commands.

“What?” Bucky asks as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest and the wiry trail of dark hair.

“You’re going to walk out there in just your jeans and give them something to really stare at.”

“What?” Bucky repeats as Steve closes the distance between them and presses his mouth to Bucky’s own neck, Bucky arches it willingly.

“No Russian?” Steve asks, against Bucky’s skin. He smells like sweat, the lingering hints of his aftershave, and the comforting smell that Steve associates with Bucky.

“No,” Bucky whispers, it’s strangled but clearly English.

Steve gets to work sucking a trail of marks down Bucky’s body from his neck to his collarbone, a couple on his chest, another one on his ribs, before dropping to his knees to leave one above Bucky’s hip-bone, just above his pants.

He can feel the tension in Bucky’s body and brings his hand up to squeeze Bucky’s hip to comfort him. It’s a strange thing, having someone do something that should be erotic in such a clinical manner, Steve imagines.

Once Steve’s content, he pulls off and stares up at Bucky who is staring down at him in awe.

“Spontaneity,” Steve says, smug at Bucky’s expression.

Bucky nods, mouth open. Steve climbs off his knees and admires his work. With the sex hair Steve had given him earlier Bucky looks like he’d been in for the night of his life.

“Ha Ha,” Bucky says, running a hand down his chest. He looks slightly out of it, and Steve’s about to ask if he’s okay when he turns around and rummages under the covers before finding his phone. “You go out and I’ll follow in two minutes. Give them a second to come through.”

Steve catches sight of his own hickey in the mirror. It seems to be getting darker with every minute. “Sounds good.”

He pauses at the door, glancing over his shoulder at Bucky who is still facing away from him. “Show time.”

“Break a leg,” Bucky replies, and Steve shakes off whatever weird feeling had been clinging to him. He’s being ridiculous. Bucky would’ve safe worded if he was uncomfortable. Also why would he be uncomfortable? It was just a joke. A prank to get Steve’s roommates to sort their shit out.

Steve opens the door and steps outside. Tony, Clint, and Natasha are on the sofa staring expectantly at him.

Steve takes a moment to look around the apartment, noting that they hadn’t bothered to pick up the pizza boxes off the floor or the stool that Bucky and Steve had knocked over.

“Morning,” he says, shutting the door behind him.

“Oh, morning!” Tony throws his arms up in the air. “Is that all you have to say for yourself? Morning!”

“Nice to see you?”

Tony flails his arms before pointing at Clint. “Barton! Speak to him!”

“I didn’t know your lungs worked well enough to make those noises.” Clint’s face is one of grudging admiration.

Tony stares at Clint in betrayal. “That isn’t what I meant!”

“Thought you had early lectures?” Steve makes his way over to the fridge. He’s thinking bacon and eggs this morning and gets out enough food for both him and Bucky.

“I was too tired because someone kept me up all night and then didn’t let me sleep in either.”

“Wow,” Steve says. “Sounds like a real jerk.”

“I’m detecting a hint of sarcasm,” Clint says.

“It must be annoying to be kept up all night and then woken up early.” Steve continues preparing breakfast.

“Definitely sarcasm,” Clint says.

“So what?” Tony demands. “Was that the reason for the loud sex? Revenge? Did you only fuck whoever because you thought it’d be funny?”

“No,” Steve says primly. “I—”

He doesn’t get to finish that sentence because at that exact moment Bucky decides it’s time to enter.

“I knew it!” Tony yells. “I knew it!”

“We all knew it,” Natasha says. “I’d already told you both those were James’s sex noises.”

“Don’t talk about Steve’s boyfriend like that,” Tony says. “Presuming that’s what you are now? Boyfriends?”

“Wow, Stark way to pile the pressure on,” Bucky says. Steve turns to look at him and promptly turns back around, cheeks burning. He hadn’t quite realized how hard he’d gone on Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s front is littered with bruises of Steve’s doing.

Clint whistles. “Twilight roleplay?”

He hears a smacking sound and Bucky laughing: “Shut it, Barton.”

“What?” Clint protests. “You look like you lost a fight with a vampire!”

“Is no one going to ask how they went from denying that they were dating to having sex?” Tony asks.

“You could ask if you really wanted.” Bucky’s voice makes Steve jump at how close he’d gotten, and it’s his only warning before Bucky’s wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. “Morning,” he murmurs in Steve’s ear.

Steve laughs, batting at Bucky playfully.

“Okay then, please enlighten me as to how you two came to finally overcome all that sexual tension? Oh god, that’s why it was so loud wasn’t it? You were working through two years of sexual tension.”

Bucky nuzzles the top of Steve’s head before going over to prod at Tony’s overly complicated coffee maker.

“We had lost time to make up for,” Steve says.

“And so you decided to suck Barnes’s dick out through his brains?”

“Tony!”

“What? You kept me awake!”

Natasha says something to Bucky in Russian to which his only reply is to raise his middle finger above his head. Steve glances over to see Natasha looking smug, so he guesses whatever she’d said had been rude.

“So are you guys dating now?” Clint asks.

“Clint!” Natasha admonishes. “Are you?”

“We’re figuring it out, assholes.” Bucky hands Steve a cup of coffee and turns back to make his own. 

“It’s fair enough, I mean personally, I can’t help feeling like we’re part of this relationship after last night,” Tony says.

“You didn’t have to listen,” Steve says, quoting the useless advice Tony had given him after Steve had complained about his noise once.

Tony narrows his eyes in a way that tells Steve he remembers. Steve smiles innocently.

“I think it’s sweet,” Natasha says.

“That’s not what you said last night,” Clint says.

“That’s because last night I learnt that Steve, on round one, made James come harder than I ever did.” 

“Ew,” Tony says.

Steve agrees and raises his eyebrows at Bucky.

Bucky gives him a crooked grin. “Take it as a compliment.”

“James is very expressive in bed,” Natasha says with a serious expression.

“Barton, surely you’ll agree that discussing Barnes and Romanoff’s sex life is painful.”

“You kidding?” Clint laughs. “They’re my favorite bedtime fantasy.” He winks at Steve. “I like to think about them speaking Russian.”

Natasha smacks Clint’s head, smirking.

Bucky shudders. “I don’t think I can look you in the eye ever again.”

“Take it as a compliment,” Clint echos. 

Bucky smiles awkwardly.

Tony claps his hands together loudly. “Right, please give me something to think about that isn’t any of your genital regions!”

Clint picks an entirely random conversation topic, and the two of them start chatting happily.

Bucky slides over to Steve, leaning in close. “We’re naturals.”

“Of course we are,” Steve says. “Bacon good?”

“You know I think I might love you.”

Steve laughs and dishes out their food. “Shut up.” Bucky smiles at him before taking his plate and going over to loudly contradict Clint and Tony’s conversation. Steve watches him in amusement. The plan couldn’t be working better.

It’s just Steve and Clint when Steve and Bucky’s relationship comes up again. Bucky had had to leave to get ready for his afternoon classes, and Natasha had accompanied him. Bucky looked vaguely terrified at the determined expression on Natasha’s face, and Steve couldn’t wait to hear Bucky recounting that conversation. Tony had left too, and he’ll see Bucky in class, so Steve’ll hear about that later.

“So,” Clint says. Steve looks up from his book to see Clint still staring at his laptop.

“So?”

“You and Barnes.”

“Me and Bucky, yep.”

“That’s a thing now?”

“Think so, yeah.”

“Cool.” Clint munches loudly on a chip. “I didn’t know you liked him like that.”

Steve fiddles with the frayed corner of his book as he runs through the cover story Bucky had come up with. “I didn’t, or at least I didn’t know I did.”

“So what was the catalyst?”

“I don’t know, we were just dancing and Bucky was being Bucky—”

“Making everyone else on the dance floor feel inadequate?”

“Pretty much.” Steve thinks Bucky does the opposite on the dance floor: he draws people toward him like moths to a flame, his smile bright enough that everyone gets to appreciate his light for just a second.

Steve’s most comfortable when he’s dancing with Bucky, the easy movement of Bucky’s body encouraging him to let loose.

“Then what?” Clint prompts.

“I don’t know, we were just staring at each other and…”

“Shared a kiss, came back here and had the world’s loudest sex?”

“Pretty much.”

“You get asthma walking up the stairs, how did you manage that?”

“Priorities.”

Clint reaches over to fist-bump Steve, and that’s the end of that one.

* * *

Despite all of Steve’s probably disrespectful prayers about being granted the ability to bend time, his work shift drags as it always does. 

Steve works at a crappy dinner called That 50s Place — lovingly known to all the students of Marvel College as 50s. It’s not the best job, but it’s also far from the worst job Steve’s had, and the pay isn’t as bad as it could be, so he tolerates the stupid costume.

His phone’s blown up with messages from Sam and Bucky demanding he calls them, so, while he’s out behind 50s fiddling with his bike chain, he gives Bucky a call.

“Has Bucky Jr. passed?” Steve asks, trying to do his helmet up with one hand, holding his bike with the other, and keeping his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder.

Bucky and Sam’s apartment had come with a fish tank that, after getting stoned one afternoon, Bucky and Sam had filled with fish they’d then named Sam and Bucky Jr. There’d been a christening and everything.

Bucky Jr.’s been looking peaky the last couple of days, and Bucky’s been worried about him. Steve imagines there’ll be a funeral.

“No…” Bucky sounds sketchy.

“Then what’s up?” Steve gives up on his helmet and focuses on not dropping his phone.

“Well…”

“Is that Steve?” Sam’s voice comes through the phone.

“No…” 

“That Sam?” Steve asks.

“No…” 

“Bucky,” Steve and Sam sigh at the same time.

“We still good for later yeah?” Steve asks when it becomes clear Bucky isn’t going to say anything. Bucky had agreed to come by when Steve returned from work. 

“Yeah!” Bucky says quickly. “It’s just…”

“Just?” Steve prompts.

“Could you swing by here first?”

“I mean, yeah, of course, but as a heads-up I stink of burgers.” Steve’s changed out of his work clothes already and doesn’t even work in the kitchen, but it’ll still take him a year tonight to wash off the smell.

“You got any leftovers?” Bucky asks perking up. Steve’s boss, Erskine, is decent about letting them take food home.

“Not today.” 

“Urh, don’t bother coming then.”

Steve snorts, then listens as he hears Bucky and Sam squabble. He takes the moment to unclip his bicycle from the rack and fasten his helmet.

“Hello Steven.”

The only person that calls Steve _Steven_ is his mom when he’s in trouble.

“Hello Samuel?”

“Don’t play cute, Bucky filled me in on your plan.”

“How come he’s Bucky and I’m Steven?”

“Fine, James has—”

“Aw come on! Don’t call me, James!”

“Will you both shut up?” Steve can’t see Sam’s face, but he can picture exactly how pissed off it is with Steve and Bucky’s antics. Steve thinks he knows what this is about as well… He imagines that Bucky’s filled Sam in on their fake dating plan, and Sam thinks they’re being stupid.

“Anyway,” Sam continues, “get your ass over here so I can yell at you.”

“That is not a tempting offer.” Steve can’t help laughing.

“Rogers.”

Steve sighs in defeat.“Fine, see you soon!”

Sam hangs up before Steve can speak to Bucky again.

Steve flicks through the rest of the messages on his phone, replies to a text from his mom that Sam and Bucky‘s spam had buried, and then heads off.

He doesn’t think Sam will be genuinely mad at them, more like just wants to check that they’ve thought the whole thing through. Steve’s pretty certain that once Sam’s done with his _please stop being idiots_ rant, they’ll be able to talk him into joining them in their plan.

He can think of a few instances when Sam’s joined in with their antics before even knowing what the plan was.

Steve’s not worried at all.

Steve’s mildly worried when Sam's voice comes through the speaker of Sam and Bucky’s building open before he can even buzz.

Sam's waiting with the door open but he time he gets upstairs. “Please join Mr. Barnes on the couch of stupidity.” Sam gestures to where Bucky is sprawled out on the couch. His face lights up at the sight of Steve, and he waves eagerly.

Steve gives Sam a confused look before obediently shuffling over.

“How did he—” he starts, whispering.

“Find My Friends. We’ve been watching you since you left 50s,” Bucky answers. Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. Sam’s taking this conversation more seriously than Steve’d expected. “Also, you really stink.”

“Warned ya.”

“No whispering on the couch of stupidity!” Sam says, dragging a kitchen chair over.

“I feel like I’m back at school,” Steve says.

“Regular at the Principal’s office?” Bucky asks. Steve nods. “Why am I not surprised?” Bucky rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling fondly.

Steve shrugs. “I had opinions about funding priorities, and the treatment of minorities that the school didn’t like hearing.”

“No playing the _I’m a good person_ card on the couch of stupidity.” Sam settles in front of them, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs.

“What are we allowed to do on the couch of stupidity?” Steve asks, and a part of him feels like he ought to raise his hand before he speaks.

Bucky _does_ raise his hand, and Sam gestures for him to speak.

“On the couch of stupidity we’re to sit in silence and listen to Sam speak in order to realize the extent of our stupidity,” Bucky recites. Steve marvels at his ability to keep his face straight.

“Exactly,” Sam says. He fixes Steve with a firm glare. “Now, Steve, whose idea was it for you to pretend to be dating?”

Steve glances at Bucky who grins. He hadn’t wanted to drop Bucky in the shit, but he supposes Bucky’s already filled Sam in on everything. “Bucky’s.”

Sam sighs like Steve’s just taken a fifty years from his life. “What exactly made you think it was a good suggestion?”

“Bucky argued it in a pretty convincing way.” Steve shrugs. “And I think it’ll work.”

“Told ya,” Bucky says smugly.

Sam turns his glare on Bucky. “Being the instigator of stupidity is not something to be proud of!” Bucky mimes zipping his mouth.

Sam massages his temples and sighs. “No, but jokes aside, have you guys really thought this through?”

“With Bucky’s help this is possibly the most thought through thing I’ve ever done,” Steve says. He’s normally a lot more impulsive.

Sam doesn’t look at all comforted by Steve’s words.

“Okay,” Sam says, tapping his fingers together. “I’m going to sit here and point out all the problems with your plan, and you’re going to understand why it’s an awful idea and stop it.”

Bucky lounges back, face to the ceiling as if he’s heard Sam’s arguments more than once. The set of his jaw tells Steve that Bucky has no interest in dropping the charade, not until they achieve their goal.

“So, first we’re relying on the fact that Steve would be able to convincingly lie for a prolonged period.”

Bucky snorts. Steve’s offended that Sam’s using such a low argument. While Steve may never have Bucky’s affinity for spinning tall tales, he can lie when there’s a greater cause that requires it — such as Tony and Clint learning a lesson.

Steve doesn’t even bother to answer, he just stares at Sam until Sam gives up and sighs. “Okay, I’ll admit that was a cheap shot. I just want you to think about the people you’re lying to; Clint and Tony could end up actually hurt by this. Think of how you’d feel if Bucky and I pretended to date to get one over on you.”

Steve gnaws on his bottom lip, hating the ugly twist of his stomach at the idea of Sam and Bucky conspiring without him.

“That’s different,” Bucky says. “Stark and Barton will know it’s a joke.”

“You’re still lying to them.”

“So they’ll stop taking Steve for granted! You said yourself that he needed to do something about it!”

“I meant talk to them, not enter a fake relationship with you! How is your friendship going to survive this? You’re breaking and changing all the boundaries. I mean, most friends don’t go around leaving hickeys all over each other.”

Steve rubs the fading mark on his neck. Natasha had helped him cover it for work this morning. “We know what we’re in for.”

“Do you?”

“Sam,” Bucky snaps. They glare at each other so intensely that Steve feels there’s something else going on there.

He clears his throat. “We know what we’re doing,” he promises. “Bucky’s like a brother. It’ll only get weird if we make it so.”

Sam’s eyes take a second too long to leave Bucky’s face, but he eventually turns back to Steve. “And you’re both happy to be celibate? What if you find someone you’re interested in?”

“We’ve both agreed we’re okay with committing to the plan, and I mean how long can it really last?”

“Clint and Tony could get worse. They could play off your attitude.”

“How much worse could they get?” Steve asks. “I end up here half the week as it is, and this way I’m getting to have a bit of fun with it.” He turns to Bucky who’s staring at the floor. “Right?”

Bucky drags a hand through his hair. “What? Yeah. Right.”

Steve frowns, but before he can ask Bucky if he’s okay, Sam speaks again.

“I’m really not going to be able to convince you, am I?”

“No,” Steve admits. “But you could help us? That’s what we were hoping.”

Sam says nothing for a moment, he just stares at them and looks vaguely disappointed — Steve’s not sure if it’s in them or in himself. “Guess we’re expanding the couch of stupidity to the apartment of stupidity.”

“So you’re in?”

“I’m in the apartment of stupidity, aren’t I?”

Bucky lets out a bark of laughter. “I’ll go grab my laptop. Get the lists,” he says, clapping Sam on the shoulder as he passes him.

“Y’all made lists?”

Steve smiles innocently. “Told you we were prepared.”

Sam doesn’t look at all comforted.

By the time they finally leave Sam and Bucky’s, Steve is more than willing to trade his left leg for a shower. They walk together — Steve pushing his bike and glaring at Bucky every time it looks like he’s about to offer to take it — and celebrate their victory over Sam.

Steve had been pretty sure they’d be able to talk Sam around, but there had definitely been a minute there when he hadn’t known if Sam would put his foot down for good. He’d been more concerned than Steve had expected, but he came around and gave them a few good ideas in the end.

Their plan for the night isn’t too intense, Bucky probably won’t even stay the night. They’re just doing a film night and staying in the couch and kitchen to prevent Clint and Tony from setting up base and hogging the room all night. It’s their routine on a Friday: Tony would order them an extensive amount of Chinese food — that they wouldn’t clean up — and they’d sit on the couch playing video games and yelling at the screen until an offensive time in the morning. Steve doesn’t mind on the days he has Saturday off work because he can join them, but when he has to be up early to serve bacon and pancakes to his peers, he’d really rather get his much-needed sleep.

Tony just doesn’t get it. He’s never had a job in his life and, aside from the fact that he’s in line to take over his dad’s high-tech development company, he never will. He’ll certainly never have to work in a 50s themed diner, or at a skate rink, or dress up as an elf at Christmas time because it makes a few extra dollars and the cost of his medication’s gone up.

Tony’s answer to Steve not being able to afford any of the apartments they’d looked at was to buy the building and have someone from Stark Industries turn it into a professional student rental building. That’s how Tony shows his love: he throws his money at people.

Clint doesn’t get it either. Sure he’s had a job, but it was a part-time summer job working as a lifeguard, and all his stories about it involve getting high after his shift.

Steve’s stories involve that time a child threw up on his pointed Elf shoes.

Bucky makes Steve stand outside the corner shop while he runs inside to buy snacks. Steve’s ready to argue that Bucky’s coddling him, but Bucky tells him it’s because Bucky’s plans to cook them dinner like the loving boyfriend he is, so Steve can shove it. Steve relents when Bucky promises it’ll make a huge mess in the kitchen.

Steve heads straight into the shower when they get back and lets Bucky get set up in the kitchen. He’s desperate to wash the stench of the diner off him, and he nearly washes himself down the drain as the exhaustion hits him. It’d been a grueling shift at work, and the conversation with Sam had been more taxing than he’d expected. Steve still feels like he’s missed a part of the conversation, the reason behind Sam’s intensity.

“Smell better?” Bucky asks when Steve shuffles out of the bathroom in a hoodie and sweats, his hair still damp and dripping down his back.

“Fresh as a daisy,” Steve says. “Whatcha cookin’?”

“Mexican… kinda… I’m making fajitas.” The microwave dings. “And those are the nachos we’re having to start.”

Steve lets out a needy groan and hurries over to the microwave, nearly sobbing at the sight of the nachos covered in melted cheese, guacamole, and sour cream.

“You’re the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“I bet you say that to all your fake boyfriends.” Bucky reaches into the carrier bag beside him and slides a pot of salsa across the table.

Steve catches it and clutches it close to his chest, popping a nacho in his mouth, the cheese burning away his next words.

“Oh yeah, might be hot,” Bucky says uselessly.

Steve sticks out his burnt tongue and skulks over to the couch, refusing to let go of the nachos.

“What we gonna watch?” Steve asks, grabbing the remote from between the cushions where Clint always leaves it.

“What would Clint and Tony hate?”

Steve flicks through the Netflix options. “Disney?”

“Do they hate Disney?”

“Tony has a strange hatred for _Bambi_.”

“Only ‘cause it made him cry.” 

“What?” Steve can’t keep the glee out of his voice.

“Yeah, he told me when we were drunk once.”

Steve files Tony’s _Bambi_ trauma away for whenever he might need it.

“Also,” Bucky continues, “if I’m remembering karaoke night right, then Clint knows all the lyrics to _Frozen_.”

“Liking _Frozen_ and knowing all the lyrics don’t necessarily go hand in hand.” Steve doesn’t have any particular feelings for the film, but still knows all the words to “Let It Go” — though he partially blames Bucky for that, who blames Becca.

“Nicholas Sparks?”

“They’re straight remember.”

“Yeah, straight dudes.”

“Point,” Steve concedes. “I guess I just don’t hate myself enough to sit through those films.”

“Fair, Gosling is fit though.”

“I don’t see it.”

Bucky doesn’t reply, but Steve presumes he’s rolling his eyes. Bucky always rags on Steve for being picky, but really Steve thinks it’s just they have totally contrasting types. Bucky’s always been a sucker for blonds whereas Steve prefers dark hair — aside from the Sharon blip. Though personality has _always_ been his priority — aside from the Brock blip…

“I’m running out of options here, Stevie.” Bucky sighs, coming over beside Steve and dropping down next to him, grabbing the nacho that lands on the floor and eating it. Steve tries not to gag.

“We’ve discussed, like, two things.”

Bucky steals the remote from Steve and scrolls through Netflix. He’s moving so fast that Steve can barely read the titles, so he takes the moment to clean his glasses on his shirt.

“How about one of these shitty Netflix originals?”

“The ones that make me want to die?”

“Yep.”

Steve reads the summary of the one Bucky’s settled on. “Yeah, why not?”

“Awesome,” Bucky says. “When do the others get home?”

Steve checks his phone. “In about fifteen minutes.”

“Awesome. And on the off chance they like the films, we’ll break out the PDA.”

“Sounds good,” Steve says, moving the nachos out of Bucky’s reach. Bucky looks heartbroken, and that’s all it takes for Steve to relent and let Bucky take an obnoxious handful.

“Right, I’m going to finish making dinner. Just stick the film on, and I’ll listen in.”

Steve nods, pressing play and settling into his corner of the couch. “Remember not to do any washing up!” he calls after Bucky, causing him to laugh.

“God, this is the best relationship I’ve ever been in.”

“Pretty sure this is the only relationship you’ve ever been in.”

“Eh, still the best.”

Steve grins and helps himself to another nacho.

To their embarrassment, Bucky and Steve are riveted by the movie when Clint and Tony walk in and stare at them in badly disguised horror.

“Hey, guys,” Bucky says cheerfully, his arm around Steve’s shoulders. He’d put it there the second he’d heard the lock jangling, and Steve’s trying not to laugh at the sloppy way Bucky’s now eating his tortilla.

“Bucket!” Tony says, smile looking like it pains him. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching a film. What’re you doing here, Stank?”

Tony gives Steve an incredulous look that Steve pretends not to see. “I live here! You don’t get to ask me that!”

Steve feels Bucky shrug and listens as Tony and Clint hiss at each other as they try to figure out how to proceed.

“What film are you watching?” Clint asks eventually.

Steve tells him. “You’re welcome to join.”

“I dunno…”

During Clint and Tony’s silence, Steve glances at Bucky and spots a splodge of sauce by the corner of his mouth. The idea hits him like a eureka moment. Bucky had said to play up the PDA after all. He leans over, wipes the sauce with his thumb and licks it off. He smiles sweetly as Bucky, Clint, and Tony stare at him open mouthed.

“So?” Steve prompts.

“I think I’ll pass,” Clint mumbles, grimacing.

Tony nods rapidly. “Yep, Barnes looks like he’s about to eat you for dessert, and that’s something I _never_ want to see! Ever!” Tony scurries off toward his room. “And don’t you dare fuck on the couch!” he yells before slamming the door behind him.

“What he said,” Clint says, giving them a weak thumbs-up before vanishing into his own room.

Steve holds up his hand for a high five, frowning when Bucky doesn’t respond instantly.

“You okay?”

Bucky shakes his head, grin appearing as he high fives Steve — it’s a shitty high five. “Yeah, sorry you just took me by surprise.”

“You really okay?” Steve asks, lowering his voice. “If I went too far, you can tell me.”

“You didn’t. Just ignore me.”

“Buck—”

“Stefan!”

Steve raises his eyebrows at the accent. “Why are you safe wording?”

“I’m safe wording you apologizing. You didn’t go too far, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve says. “If you say so.”

“I say so.”

They settle back against the sofa, Bucky’s arm still around Steve’s shoulder. Steve’s not complaining, Bucky’s got a nice broad chest for him to lean against.

They’ve finished eating and are entwined on the sofa after putting on a show for Clint by the time Tony emerges from his room. Steve glances up to catch Tony feeling his way around the apartment with his hand over his eyes.

“Don’t mind me! I just don’t want to see anything!” Tony says before walking into the counter and spluttering. “Okay, I give up, are you kissing?”

Bucky grins at Steve and leans forward, until he’s a whisper away, mouth curling up in question. Steve closes the gap between them in answer, and has to try not to laugh as he catches onto Bucky’s plan. Bucky’s kissing him obscenely. It’s wet and loud and far more heated than it has a right to be.

Bucky’s hand rests on Steve’s hip as Steve leans into Bucky. It’s a different kiss from their other ones, more heated and yet more staged. A strange compromise.

“I hate you both,” Tony whimpers. Steve breaks the kiss and tries not to laugh as he looks over at Tony’s pained expression. He tries to control his breathing and not react. He hasn’t been kissed like that in a while. Once this fake relationship is over Steve needs to get laid.

“What’d we do?” Steve asks.

Tony glares at him and then wails when he catches sight of all the dirty dishes. Steve thinks it serves him right. “I’m ordering Chinese, let me know when it’s safe to come out.”

Steve waves cheerily at him, turning back to Bucky once he’s gone.

“Nice work,” he murmurs, leaning back into Bucky’s side in case the others come back out.

“Thanks,” Bucky replies, attention back on the film as if nothing’s happened. Steve supposes nothing had. They’re show kisses after all. Everything they’re doing is part of an act, and he can’t let himself think otherwise.

If he gets too caught up in the moment that’s when things’ll become weird. It’s like he told Sam, they’ve got this under control.

Bucky burps, and Steve pokes him in the ribs, glad for the reminder of normality.

They end up falling asleep on the couch, and when Steve wakes up the TV’s been turned off and Bucky’s trying to pick him up.

He bats Bucky weakly with one hand. “What’d I say ‘bout carrying?”

Bucky laughs softly. “Okay, okay.” He extends a hand, and Steve lets Bucky drag him to his feet and lead him to his room. He can feel the exhaustion in his bones and the thought of having to work again tomorrow makes Steve never want to wake up.

Bucky takes Steve’s glasses from his face, laughing as he places them on the bedside table. Steve imagines he looks ridiculous and cross-eyed trying to focus on Bucky’s face.

“Go to sleep, Stevie.” Bucky makes for the door.

Steve frowns, reaching for him. “Where’re you going?”

“Home, you need to sleep. You’ve got work tomorrow.”

“But it’s…” Steve pulls his phone from his pocket. “It’s 2am! You can’t walk home now.”

“Yeah, I can. Perks of being a big boy.”

“It’s 2am,” Steve repeats, because he’s struggling to stay upright let alone form coherent and complex sentences, but he knows he can’t just let Bucky walk home.

“You worrying ‘bout me, Stevie?” Bucky smiles. He rests his hands on Steve’s shoulders, pushing him down onto the bed.

“‘Course I worry ‘bout ya, Buck.”

“That’s sweet.”

“S’not. Just how it is.” Steve tries his best to glare at Bucky. “Just get in my bed.”

“Sweet talker,” Bucky says. Steve’s too tired to think up something witty in response. “Your bed ain’t that big, and you hog the covers, and you’ve gotta wake up for work.”

“I’m a great sleeping partner,” Steve says, curling up on his bed and letting Bucky sort the cover out for him.

“Sure you are, pal.”

“Buck…” Steve tries one more time.

Bucky gives him a rueful smile. “I’ve got lab stuff to do tomorrow, and it’s just better this way, trust me.”

Steve thinks that’s unfair, because of course he trusts him. Bucky shouldn’t be using that against him. “You’ll text me the second you get home?”

“The second,” Bucky promises, backing away from Steve.

“Good,” Steve mumbles. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Sure ya will,” Bucky says, flicking the light off so only his outline’s illuminated in the dark. “Night, Stevie.”

“Night, Buck.”

Steve doesn’t let himself fall asleep until his phone buzzes with Bucky’s text, but the second it does, he’s out cold for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter to come Friday!!
> 
> Kudos and comments are the best things since sliced bread
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@gracie137blogs](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com) if you want to talk about the fic or anything !!!
> 
> If you enjoyed please do promote the fic on tumblr by reblogging this [post](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com/post/180660689685/fic-karmas-a-fake-orgasm)


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky keep up the act, but feelings are confusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the Avengers 4 trailer won't give you any Stucky content so you've got to make your own.  
> Enjoy!!

“Okay, I know you stole that five hundred because there is no way you still had that much money left.”

“How do you know?”

“Because your tactics are not that good!”

“My tactics are amazing!”

“No they’re not! That’s why I’m about to bankrupt you!”

“You’re not about to bankrupt me! You’re about to bankrupt yourself!”

“I think you’ll find that I’m about to bankrupt you both,” Steve says as he passes go and collects his money with a smug smile.

“Only because you’re playing as the lucky Pika!” Tony says, giving up on trying to grab the five hundred bill out of Clint’s hands.

“I always play as Pika!”

“Yeah, and you always win, hence why it’s lucky!”

“Or maybe I’m just better than both of you?” Steve _is_ better than them both; it’s not hard with Clint’s uncalculated risks and Tony’s tendency to buy everything he can and end up broke. Also they’re both so busy watching each other they don’t notice him cheating.

“Shouldn’t you be better at this, Tony, with how rich you are?” Clint asks, putting a Poke Mart on Geodude and looking way too proud of himself for how useless the move was.

“I think it actually makes him worse,” Steve says. “Maybe if he had his accountant do it for him?”

“I miss playing as a team, we should do that again.”

“No,” Steve and Clint say because the last time they’d played as a team, Tony had paired up with Pepper who had wiped the floor with them all. Pepper was banned from playing board games now.

A knock sounds and they glare at each other, hunched around the Monopoly board; no one wants to stand up, leave the board or take their eyes off the bank.

“Steve? You there?” Bucky calls, and Steve groans. He’d forgotten he’d invited Bucky over, and this means he will have to be the one to stand up. Clint and Tony gleefully grin at him.

“Hey Buck, don’t suppose you can pick locks?”

There’s a pause. “No? Should I?”

“It’d be pretty useful if you did.”

“Can’t believe Barnes can’t pick a lock,” Clint says. Tony and Steve share a look because Clint’s full of weird habits, and neither of them would be _too_ surprised if _he_ knew how to pick locks.

“Am I just going to stand here all day, or are you going to let me in?”

Steve sighs and stands up, his knees creaking as he does so. “You better appreciate me for this!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll suck your dick later.” Steve rolls his eyes and opens the door to a bemused Bucky.

“No mentions of Rogers’s private parts on the property!” Tony says. Steve turns to glare at him in time to catch Clint stealing Tony’s money while he’s distracted.

“Can I ask why it was such an effort to—Oh! Pokemon Monopoly!” Bucky bounds past Steve to inspect the board. “Who’s winning?”

“Me,” Steve, Clint, and Tony say at once.

“I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to play! Do you not value this relationship at all?” Bucky drops onto the couch, picks up the box, and starts to read the back.

“Contrary to what you seem to believe, Barnes, you don’t have to be here at all times,” Tony says, rolling the dice.

Steve sits back down, shoulder against Bucky’s leg.

“Aww, Stark, I know you love me being here really.” Bucky grins over the top of the box. Tony glares at Steve as if it’s Steve’s fault, which it technically is, seeing as Steve’s the reason Bucky’s there and deliberately trying to wind Tony up. “How long you been playing?”

“Three hours,” Steve says.

“I missed class for this,” Clint admits.

Bucky whistles. “Yikes.”

“Quiet, I’m concentrating!” Tony shouts, glaring at the dice.

Steve glances up; Bucky winks at him before returning to reading the game’s instructions. 

It’s another an hour before Clint and Tony finally admit bankruptcy. Steve moves to join Bucky on the couch; Bucky’s arm falls around his shoulder instantly. 

“Real sexy watching you be all capitalistic,” Bucky teases. 

Steve will never live down that drunken rant about how Monopoly was actually created to show the evils of capitalistism and how twisted the game had become since then.

“Just you wait till I’m working as a banker on Wall Street.”

“Exploiting the people of America?”

“Better,” Steve says. “I’m going after the third world.”

Bucky hums. “God, I’m turned on right now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Bucky rests his thumb under Steve’s chin, tilts his head up and kisses him. “In fact—”

Tony clears his throat. “Yes, yes, very funny, because Steve will never be part of the capitalist scum of the big cities, but please remember you’re in public.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and leans back. “Don’t be homophobic.”

“How am I being homophobic?”

“You’re refusing to let two guys kiss in public,” Bucky says, with a shit-eating grin.

“No! I’m asking that you two stop going at it like animals!”

“And now you’re playing into the stereotype that gay men are overly sexual.”

Tony opens and closes his mouth, staring at Steve desperately. Steve shrugs. It’s not often Tony’s rendered speechless, and he’s enjoying it. Clint’s no help for Tony either as he stands there snickering.

“I am _not_ homophobic! I can’t be homophobic! I sucked a dick once!”

Now _that_ shuts them up.

Steve blinks, trying to figure out if he misheard, because there’s no way Tony just said…

Tony crosses his arms and stares at them all evenly.

“What?” Clint splutters, snapping Steve out of his daze.

“Did you just say you’ve sucked dick?” Steve demands.

Bucky gapes as if everything he’s ever believed has just turned out to be false.

Tony smiles smugly. “Yep.”

“What?” Clint repeats.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, holding his hands up. “When?”

“High school.”

“What?” Clint seems to have broken. Bucky’s not faring much better, and he’s still staring at Tony, who is looking happier than Steve’s ever seen him.

“Who?” Steve asks, seeing as he’s the only one with the brain functionality to get the details.

“Rhodey.”

“What?”

“We got high, and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, and he was like, ‘Why not? Free blowjob.’ So, I sucked him off. You see, I’m a scientist, I had to gather all the evidence before coming to a definitive conclusion.”

“What was the conclusion?” Steve asks.

“Are you saying you sucked dick for science?” Bucky leans forward as if he’s seeing Tony in a new light.

Tony nods. “Yep, and the conclusion was that I am in fact a heterosexual. Dick does nothing for me. I’ve got to say, I don’t know how you guys do it.”

“You can’t be straight! You’ve just admitted you sucked a dick!” Clint says.

Tony turns to him. “Yeah, and deduced that it wasn’t for me. I have evidence supporting the fact I’m straight. Where is the evidence that you’re straight?” Clint stares at Tony incredulously. “That’s what I thought. Check and mate.”

“My evidence is in the fact I’ve never sucked a dick!”

“Straight people are so weird,” Bucky murmurs to Steve. Steve can only nod in response. They really are… and his roommates are even weirder than most.

Clint gets out the Xbox, and Bucky challenges him to a rematch at a shooting game that Steve doesn’t care for. His lack of interest in the game has nothing to do with the fact he’s awful… or so he likes to tell other people.

“Is pasta okay?” Steve calls to Bucky as he searches through his shelves. He needs to go shopping but he’ll have to wait for his paycheck to come through first.

“Not if you’re cooking.”

“I burnt it once! Let it go!”

Clint laughs far too loudly for someone who lives off pizza. And Tony’s far too smug, seeing as Steve’s never witnessed him eat a vegetable that wasn’t deep fried.

Steve glares at Bucky, who glances over his shoulder and grins. “Sorry!”

“You better be sorry if you want to eat.”

Bucky turns back to the TV. “I know something else I could eat.” Steve blushes and busies himself with the pasta because the image of Bucky… anyone… doing _that_ is too intimate for him to bear in public. It’s not like Steve hasn’t thought about it, wondered about it, but done it or had it done to him… no.

“Are you talking about his dick?” Clint asks. A boom echoing from the TV.

Bucky scoffs. “No, I was talking about eating his a—”

“If you so much as even think about finishing that sentence then I will have you permanently banned from this building!” Tony warns before swearing. “How did you make that shot? That doesn’t make any sense! Why the fuck did you shoot me? Aren’t I on your team? Can we ban him from this apartment anyway? Can I call my lawyer and have Bucky Barnes banned from my life?”

Steve’s not sure who Tony is speaking to, so he continues cooking.

One week in, and Bucky can already make Tony’s voice raise three octaves. It’s impressive. _We’re still miles away from Tony and Clint actually fixing their act around the apartment, though_ , Steve thinks as he maneuvers around their dirty dishes. He’ll end up cleaning their mess, because he can’t stand it. It makes him feel unfocused and unhygienic.

“How long has this been dirty?” Steve asks, poking at the white fat with a dirty fork.

“Dunno,” Clint replies. “Nat found it in my room and made me take it out.”

“I wonder why,” Steve mutters. “Can you clean it when you’re done?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to— What the fuck, Barnes? Why did you just shoot me?”

“Aw, fuck! Sorry man, I missed,” Bucky says, and he winks at Steve before returning to the game. Steve smiles to himself and gets back to dinner. It’s nice to know Bucky’s got his back in every way, even if it’s shooting Clint while playing Xbox. He does some washing up while the pasta is boiling, then when it’s done he adds the pesto and brings a bowl over to Bucky, sitting down beside him on the couch. Bucky doesn’t look away from the screen but presses a kiss to Steve’s head.

They eventually switch games and Steve’s able to join in and not totally humiliate himself.

Steve and Tony are in the middle of arguing over the best way to get the team to Bowser’s Castle when Bucky interrupts to ask to use the shower.

“Sure, you know where the spare towels are, yeah?”

“Don’t use any of mine! You’ll know which ones they are because they’re actually nice!” Tony yells. Bucky doesn’t reply, and as the bathroom door shuts behind him, Tony sighs. “He’s going to use my towels, isn’t he?”

“Yep,” Clint and Steve say.

They’re right. A while later Bucky emerges from the bathroom and when Steve glances over, he spots Tony’s towel wrapped around his waist. Steve always looks like a drowned rat when he’s fresh out the shower but, of course, Bucky looks like he’s on a modeling shoot.

Tony pauses the game and glares over at Bucky. “Is my towel touching your dick?”

“Sure is.”

Tony groans. “Now I have to burn it! Unless you want to keep it, Rogers, something to jerk off to when Bucket’s not here?”

“I’ll pass.”

“It’s a fantastic thread count,” Bucky says, stroking the towel. “Your razor’s great too.”

“They’re Turkish— Wait did you say _my_ razor?”

Bucky rubs a hand across his jaw, and Steve realizes he’s shaved off the shadowy stubble that’d been growing there. And apparently used Tony’s razor to do it. “Yeah,” Bucky continues, innocent expression on his face. Steve bites down on his lip and stares at the couch instead of the twisting horror on Tony’s face. He’ll lose it if he’s not careful, and he knows that Bucky’s thought whatever he’s doing through.

“You used my razor?”

“Yeah, not on my balls or anything, don’t worry. I’m presuming it was yours, shiny black one?”

“Not on your…” Tony echos. “Why didn’t you use Steve’s?” The pitch of his voice slowly rises.

“Steve doesn’t have one for a good facial shave.” It’s fair enough. Steve barely ever has to shave his face, whereas if Bucky wants to be clean-shaven, he shaves daily.

“Why’d you have to shave anyway?” Clint asks. He sounds like he knows he will regret asking.

Steve makes the mistake of looking back at Bucky in time to watch his mouth curl into a wicked grin. “Beard burn.”

“Beard burn?” Tony repeats.

Bucky adjusts his towel, leering. “Yeah, Stevie has pretty sensitive skin, and if I’m going to eat—” 

“What did I say about mentioning your tongue in Steve’s ass?!” 

Steve can feel his entire face going red and stares pointedly at the ceiling instead of looking at Tony, who is continuing to shriek at Bucky. Clint clears his throat — Steve doesn’t dare look at him either.

“You’re the one mentioning tongues, I was just alluding to them.”

“Bucky!” Steve hisses, still staring at the ceiling. His heart’s probably about to give out because all of his blood is on the surface of his skin.

Bucky laughs. “Sorry.” He sounds extremely unapologetic.

“I’m sending you my invoice for a therapist.”

“Live a little, Stark. Ask Pepper to give it a try, you never know, you might be into it.”

“I wish I could unlive the last few minutes,” Clint mutters. Steve heartily agrees.

Steve goes to have a shower of his own once they complete their level and avoids eye contact with his roommates. He doesn’t want to meet their eyes because they think he’s showering so Bucky can… and they won’t meet his eyes for the same reason.

Steve groans and immediately regrets it. He doesn’t want to chance that Clint or Tony happen to be standing outside the bathroom at that moment and hear him. They’d think he was… he was opening himself up for Bucky. He doesn’t mind making them uncomfortable—the whole point of him and Bucky is to make them uncomfortable. Steve’s brain is just having a hard time processing the whole rimming thing.

He knows it’s something people do. He’s read about it, seen it in porn, and he fantasized about it once or twice. His mind just can’t comprehend it in real life or that it’s something Bucky does to people or has done to him.

Steve’s presuming Bucky’s done it. He’d seemed way too casual talking about it to not have. Unlike Steve who had ignited at the mere idea.

He’d mentioned it to Brock once, back when they were hooking up. Brock had asked him for some _ideas_ of things they could try in the bedroom and nearly laughed in Steve’s face when Steve suggested it. When Brock had asked for ideas to spice up their sex life, all he’d wanted was to tie Steve up. They’d ended pretty quickly after that.

Clint and Tony are still playing video games when Steve leaves the bathroom and heads into his room to find Bucky on his bed. He’s sprawled out, an arm behind his head as he pokes at Steve’s laptop.

“Want to tell me the password?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah, give me a second to get changed.” 

Bucky pulls a cushion over his eyes while Steve puts on some sweats and a sweater before coming over and grabbing his laptop.

“Successful evening, yeah?” Bucky asks, shuffling into the corner to make room for Steve.

Steve glances up to see Bucky grinning at him and rolls his eyes. “Ha ha, you’re very funny!”

“Hey! I was doing my job! Not my fault everyone’s so sensitive about the idea of having a tongue in their ass… or your ass I guess.”

“Bucky!” Steve pinches him.

Bucky slaps him away laughing. “I’m just…” Bucky’s laughter dies off and he stares at Steve. His jaw gapes before that stupid filthy grin is back on his face. “You’ve never done it have you?”

“Never done what?” Steve isn‘t fooling either of them.

“Rimming, ass eating, butt—”

“Okay, I get it.” Steve shoves his hand over Bucky’s mouth and glares at him. “And no, for your information, I haven’t tried it.”

“Not even with Brock?”

“Not even with Brock.”

“You said Brock was into everything!”

“Yeah, well, he thought rimming was disgusting.”

Bucky pulls a face. “Brock was a douchebag.” Steve can’t disagree with that. “You’ve just got to clean properly and…” Bucky shrugs.

“So…” Steve twists the duvet between his fingers. “You have done it?”

“Yep.” Steve expects Bucky to smirk, but instead he chews his thumb, staring back at Steve. “It’s good. I reckon you’d like it.” Steve pinches Bucky again. “What? I do!”

“Shut up,” Steve mumbles, unable to say anything else. Bucky doesn’t speak either, and they sit there scrolling through Netflix aimlessly until Steve breaks the silence. “You staying the night?”

Bucky glances at the door. “Suppose so. It’d be weird if I left.”

“I could sleep on the floor if you really don’t want to share with me,” Steve offers. Bucky scoffs. “No.” Steve stands up. He’s pretty sure there’s an air mattress stuffed away somewhere he could sneak in. “I’m serious, I mean you’re already doing me this huge favor so—”

“Stevie,” Bucky sighs. “Shut up. There’s no way I’m letting you sleep on the floor with your back! Get on the bed.”

“I honestly don’t mind.”

Bucky scowls at him. “Ass on bed. Now.”

Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Bucky pulls him back onto the bed before he can. Steve gives him a kick for good measure but otherwise lets it slide.

“Movie?” Bucky suggests.

“Yeah, want a quickie first? They think that’s what we’re doing anyway.”

Bucky laughs, stretching out and reaching behind for the headboard again. He looks totally at ease as he grins up at Steve. “What’ve I said to you about foreplay?”

Steve pretends to be confused. “Foreplay?”

“Yeah, you know, getting in the _mood_.” Bucky leers at him; Steve’s had quite enough of acting like the blushing virgin this evening.

“Oh! So all your talk about how you’re going to eat my ass, that’s foreplay, right?”

Bucky’s eyes bulge, and the smirk slides off his face. “Yeah.” His voice is strained. “That’s foreplay.” Steve smiles at Bucky and gets comfortable, choosing a film for them to watch while they ‘fuck.’ Bucky clears his throat. “Well… so… shall we… urm… get going?”

“Now, who needs to learn foreplay?” Steve says smugly.

“Careful, or I will actually stick my tongue in your ass.”

Steve can feel his cheeks heating again and refuses to look at Bucky as he says, “Interesting threat there, Buck.”

“Shut up and start moaning,” Bucky mutters, banging the headboard against the wall.

Steve does as he’s told.

* * *

“So.” Steve looks up from his canvas at the sound of Peggy’s voice. “When were you going to tell me that you and Bucky had become a thing?”

“Hey, Peg,” Steve says, turning back to the canvas. He’s never been particularly good at or comfortable lying to Peggy. She knows him too well. It’s a toss-up between her and Bucky for who can read him better.

“Steve,” Peggy sighs.

“Yeah?” Steve doesn’t know why he thinks playing dumb will work this time when it’s never worked before. However, he’s always liked to consider himself an optimist… thousandth time lucky…

“You and Bucky?” Peggy prompts.

“Do I want to know how you know?” They’re not part of each other’s intimate friendship groups and have been broken up for over a year now, but that has never stopped Peggy’s uncanny ability to know when something’s happening in Steve’s life. He’ll always care about Peggy, and she’ll always care about him, and while he still misses her sometimes, he knows the breakup was for the best. In the long term, they hadn’t been compatible, and he’d rather their friendship now than the two of them growing to hate each other as they forced a relationship that didn’t work. Also, he can’t resent her happiness with Angie. They’re pretty perfect together.

“Stark’s been tweeting about it.”

Steve groans. “I’m going to report his account.”

“No, you won’t because how else am I supposed to know you’re now in a relationship with Bucky Barnes!”

“You could ask me,” Steve says to be contrary. He will have firm words with Tony about what’s acceptable to tweet about Steve’s life when he gets home. He’s sure Tony won’t listen, but Steve’s willing to try.

“Well, after waiting a year for the two of you to get together, I’d more or less given up on it actually occurring,” Peggy says, appearing next to Steve. “I like your painting,” she says as if Steve isn’t choking on his tongue at her words.

“Paint. Fumes. Asthma,” he splutters. He’s pretty sure Peggy knows it’s a bald-faced lie, but luckily she’s nice enough not to say anything, and keeps staring at his painting as he composes himself. “A year?”

“Yes,” Peggy says. “I love the blues.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, nose wrinkling. “I think it needs more grey though.”

Peggy hums, head cocked. “Yes, I could see that.”

Steve nods and bends down to inspect his paints. He trusts Peggy’s opinion on everything.

“So,” Peggy continues, and Steve nearly cries because he knows it will be about Bucky. “Are you going to tell me how you got together?”

Steve recites the story Bucky’d created for them while he mixes the correct color grey. He doesn’t let himself look at Peggy as he speaks for fear he’ll give himself away.

When he’s done Peggy stands there in silence for a moment before laughing. “Well, you took your time about it didn’t you?”

“We did?” Steve tries to ask casually, though it comes out as more of a squeak. It’s different hearing Peggy say she’s not surprised he’s with Bucky than it is Tony joking about Bucky being Steve’s boyfriend.

“Yes.”

“How?” Steve glances at Peggy, and she smiles at him as if he should _know_ what she’s talking about. He supposes he probably should if he’s actually dating Bucky.

“You know, I always thought Bucky had a thing for you even back when we were dating.”

“Nah, that’s just Bucky,” Steve says. People often read Bucky’s easy affection to be more than it is, but Steve knows that’s just how Bucky is. He’s full of love and wants to share it with the people he cares about. Steve had assumed Bucky was into Natasha when he’d first met them.

“Sure, Steve.”

Steve gives Peggy a pointed look, and she laughs again. He’s unable to keep any guise of a serious expression on his face when Peggy laughs; it’s such a bright, infectious sound.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“It’s only been about a week,” Steve says, brushing his hair off his forehead. “I haven’t told anyone!” Bucky and he had agreed that to avoid lying outside of to Tony and Clint, they wouldn’t go around telling people, but would just let people infer it. Of course, Tony tweeting about it for the world to see meant the word would spread more.

“Steven Rogers, since when was _I_ just anyone?”

“You’ve never been just anyone, Margaret Carter.”

They smile at each other and move onto much safer topics such as their Thanksgiving plans, which aren’t particularly exciting since Steve hates what the holiday stands for, and Peggy’s British. They agree to meet up for coffee soon, and Peggy ribs him a little more for getting into a relationship and not telling her, but then she has to go.

Steve keeps working on his painting, but he eventually reaches a point where he can’t do any more until the paint dries. He’d agreed to meet Bucky in the library this afternoon anyway, so he cleans himself up and heads off.

He finds Bucky sitting at the back of the library, losing an arm wrestle with Okoye while Natasha and T’Challa watch on — Natasha doing little to hide her glee.

“Are you appreciating the gun show?” Bucky calls too loudly to Steve when he catches sight of him, causing the surrounding people to glare.

“All I’m seeing is you losing?”

“I’m just biding my time,” Bucky says. He grins before dropping his voice to a stage whisper: “Hey, how about letting me win so I can impress my fella?”

Okoye slams his arm onto the table in response, causing Bucky to yelp and get glared at again. Steve rolls his eyes and takes a seat opposite Bucky before anyone blames the noise problem on him.

He’s here to study and give their fake relationship a trial run with some people who aren’t Steve’s roommates. It does good for Natasha to see Steve and Bucky together more than just being ridiculous in their apartment. Steve’s trying his best not to say anything stupid. He’s accepted that Bucky’s way better at this fake relationship than he is.

“It’s not too late to call it off with him,” Okoye says to Steve.

“Leave them alone,” T’Challa says, smiling. “Steve will come to his senses by himself.”

“Hey!” Bucky protests. “You’d all be lucky to be date me.”

“Yet none of us wanted to,” Natasha says, patting him on the shoulder mockingly. Bucky sighs dramatically and flips the page on his book.

“You can’t say that! You fucked me!”

“Yeah, I didn’t date you.”

“Steve’s dating me.” Steve kicks Bucky under the table and Bucky grins at him. 

“Clearly, Steve’s prescription is faulty,” Okoye says.

“I am due an eye-test,” Steve says, echoing Bucky’s grin when Bucky kicks him back.

“Can we all just focus on our work here, please?” Bucky asks, in an over-the-top serious tone.

“You were the one distracting us,” Okoye says.

“I distinctly remember you arm wrestling with him,” T’Challa replies, causing Okoye to give him a betrayed look.

Steve snorts and pulls out his books. He doesn’t know Bucky’s first-year friends that well, but they’re always nice to him, include him in their jokes. They had terrified him at first. They’d all seemed far too cool and collected for him to be around, but he’d soon figured out that anyone who was friends with Bucky couldn’t be _that_ scary — though Natasha and Okoye can both still be pretty scary when they want to be.

They fall into a comfortable silence as they work until Natasha and Bucky grow bored and flick bits of rolled-up paper at each other while T’Challa keeps score. Steve tries to ignore them and focus on his history research for the art essay he needs to do, until one of Natasha’s pieces of paper hits him in the head. Bucky, much to Natasha’s clear irritation, never misses. 

“When you heading home, Steve?” Natasha asks as if she hasn’t just hit him.

Steve glances at his phone and his books, pulling a face. “Whenever, really, I’m not sure how much I’m taking in at this point. You coming back to ours?”

“Yeah, Clint’s just texted me.”

“Cool. Buck, you up for coming over too?”

“Yeah, why not? Ain’t got anything better to do.”

“Brilliant,” Natasha deadpans. “You two planning on making out on the couch all night again?”

“Aww, come on! Me ’n Stevie aren’t that bad!” Steve reckons Bucky should’ve majored in drama or bypassed college all together and gone straight to Hollywood.

“The fact you call him _Stevie_ is painful enough,” Okoye says, not looking up from her work.

Bucky frowns, and it doesn’t seem like part of the act. “I called him Stevie before we even started dating?”

“Exactly.” Okoye shares a smirk with Natasha. “You two were revolting back then too.”

The conversation is taking a turn far too close to the one Steve had with Peggy.

“The pining was sweet,” T’Challa says, giving both Natasha and Okoye a chastising look, “but I am glad it’s over, it was…”

“Sickening?” Okoye suggests.

“Pathetic?” Natasha smiles sweetly.

“Pining?” Steve questions, frowning.

“Ha ha,” Bucky says, pushing his chair back. “Steve, grab a drink with me?”

Steve stares at Bucky’s full water bottle, brows raised. Bucky downs it and then gestures toward the back of the library where the water fountain is. 

“Sure?” Steve says, generally confused as to what is going on. Had he and Bucky been sickening even before they’d started this ruse?

Bucky walks away, leaving Steve scrambling to keep up. “You know that was all a joke right?” Bucky asks, voice low as they weave through the shelves.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve says. He knows neither he nor Bucky were — or are — pining after each other, which is why he’s so confused.

“It’s ‘cause of our story,” Bucky goes on, “remember that I was pining after you, so people have started to read into my old actions.”

“Oh,” Steve says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, giving Steve a small smile. “Kinda funny how easily everyone’s bought this whole thing.”

“I know,” Steve says. “It’s so funny, like, I was talking to Peggy earlier and she said she was expecting us to hook up, and I just don’t get it.” He wants to know Bucky’s thoughts on the whole situation.

“Get what?”

“Why they’d think that? I mean when did we _ever_ give off that vibe?” 

“Dunno, probably ‘cause we’re both into dudes and good friends.” Bucky turns his attention to the water fountain.

Steve shrugs even though Bucky’s not looking. “Maybe… Like I’m thrilled they are buying it, but it’s a bit ridiculous. We’ve never been interested in each other before, so why would it just happen overnight?”

“Dunno… Guess they’re just desperate for a bit of drama…”

“Well, I’m happy to provide if it sorts my roommates out.”

Bucky laughs quietly. “Yep, as long as it all works out, then this’ll have been worth it.”

“Exactly,” Steve says. “With how worked up Tony’s getting, we’ll easily be done before Christmas.” He expects Bucky to laugh; it’s what they’d planned on after all.

“Sounds great. Now shall we get back, I’ve got a few more equations to do?” Bucky takes off back through the library, not waiting for Steve to follow. Steve stares after him trying to figure out if he’d said something wrong? Maybe Bucky was more upset about their friends thinking they were dating than he’d let on? 

Steve makes a note to ask Bucky later and settles back down at the table, asking Natasha to stay a bit longer so he can finish his research. By the time they’re ready to leave, Bucky’s back to normal and even tucks his hand in Steve’s back pocket as they leave the library, much to Natasha’s and Okoye’s disgust. Steve supposes he was worrying over nothing. Bucky would tell him if he had a problem, because it’s how they work. They tell each other everything.

* * *

Steve sits on the couch, sketching Bucky’s hands while Bucky, Clint, and Natasha play on the PS4. Bucky’s got nice hands to draw, wide palms with long fingers that curl around the remote. The fingers of his left hand are crooked from a football injury he got back in high school, but Steve still thinks there’s a beauty to them. Perhaps it’s the amount of Bucky’s personality that shines through in them - in the neat nails and wonky knuckles.

He’s so caught up in shading the curve of Bucky’s thumb that Bucky, leaning his head on his shoulder, makes him jump.

“That’s amazing.”

Steve shrugs. “I’ve a good model.”

Clint gags.

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky asks, pressing his lips to Steve’s neck. Steve arches his neck to give him more room and Bucky obliges, kissing a path up Steve’s neck and along his jaw. “You been paying my hands attention, sweetheart?”

Steve, by the skin of his teeth, refrains from rolling his eyes at the pet name, and that’s only because he can see Clint shooting Natasha panicked looks out of the corner of his eye.

“Something like that.” Steve’s voice catches as Bucky nips his ear, leaning over to rest his hands on Steve’s hips.

“Didn’t you promise me you guys wouldn’t make out on the couch all evening?” Natasha asks, her voice as dry as sandpaper.

“Didn’t promise nothin’.” Bucky doesn’t remove his mouth from Steve’s skin to speak. Steve reaches out and threads a hand through Bucky’s hair to kiss him properly. Bucky stills, and Steve’s about to pull back, unsure if he’s pushed it too far without checking first, when Bucky gets with the program and kisses Steve back with enthusiasm, pushing him back into the couch cushions. Steve’s not usually the instigator, so he supposes he must have taken Bucky by surprise.

“Guys!” Clint groans. “If I wanted to watch gay porn I’d do it on my laptop!”

Steve’s going to respond, but then Bucky’s tongue is in his mouth and he gets distracted. Bucky’s a brilliant kisser, and Steve forgets what they’re doing when Bucky’s tongue slides against his own. Steve tightens his grip in Bucky’s hair and is about ready to pull Bucky down on top of him when Clint says loudly:

“Hey, Nat, want to get pancakes?”

“I’d love to,” Natasha replies.

Steve stills, mouth open against Bucky’s and opens his eyes as well. He’s got one hand in Bucky’s hair and the other one had, at some point, fisted itself in Bucky’s shirt, pulling him as close as they could get. Bucky’s fingers press into Steve’s hips hard enough that Steve can’t forget them.

Bucky’s eyes flutter open, pupils dark. Steve wants to pull away, he feels he needs to pull away and separate himself from Bucky, but he doesn’t want to make it weird. It shouldn’t be affecting him like this. It’s not Bucky’s fault that Steve hasn’t gotten laid in so long.

He can hear Clint and Natasha moving around the apartment as they prepare to leave. Bucky drags his mouth along Steve’s cheek to his ear and whispers, “You okay?” Steve nods. “Want me to keep going?” Bucky asks.

 _No_ , Steve wants to say because he needs a moment to get his life together and try to pretend that kissing his best friend isn’t causing him to lose his mind. However, they’ve an act to keep up, and if they stop now, Clint might not leave. Steve kisses Bucky in answer and shuffles so he can lie down, pulling Bucky on top of him.

Bucky props himself between Steve’s legs and breaks the kiss to stare at him in shock. Steve smirks, proud of himself for finally getting one up on Bucky who, until now, has been the driving force.

“I’ve seen less explicit porn,” Clint moans, causing Bucky to dive back down and kiss Steve again. “This is my living area!”

Steve groans loudly into Bucky’s mouth as a parting gift. He hears Clint whimper and then the door shuts behind them.

Bucky pulls up from Steve slowly, eyes still closed. His lips are slick and shiny, plump, and his lashes rest against his cheek. He’s beautiful like this, a stray part of Steve’s mind thinks.

Steve banishes that thought. Bucky’s his best friend and it’s just _weird_ to think of him like that. There’s a difference between Steve thinking Bucky’s objectively attractive and…

“Get off me, you great lump,” Steve says, prodding Bucky in the ribs. He needs Bucky off him _now_.

Bucky scrambles back, rubbing a hand across his jaw. Neither of them say anything for a moment, and Steve feels inclined to break the silence.

“That worked nicely.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, rearranging his shirt. It’s creased from Steve’s hand, and a part of Steve feels he ought to apologize.

“So,” Steve continues, “how do you want to play this?”

“Play what?”

“You know.” Steve gestures between them. He’s still lying propped on his elbows gazing up at Bucky. “What do we want them to think we got up to?”

Bucky chews his bottom lip, which only makes it shinier. “Made out on the sofa till we came in our boxers like teens?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Steve counts to ten and thinks of everything wrong with the world, anything to ignore the stirring in his dick because it’s so fucked up of him to feel this way about Bucky. He supposes it’s not his dick’s fault, not really. Bucky _is_ objectively attractive, and Steve hasn’t had anyone kiss him like that in a while. He needs to get out more.

He cringes when he realizes Bucky’s been speaking and he’s not paid any attention. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I said should we change clothes because ours would be…” Bucky pulls a face. “Sticky.”

“Great idea!” Steve jumps up, happy to put some distance between them while he works through this weird mood. Bucky stays on the couch, which is fine by Steve. “You won’t fit my clothes though…” He pauses by the door to his room, an idea hitting him. “You could wear Clint’s!”

“Clint’s?” Bucky fiddles with the TV remote.

“Yeah! Think how much he’ll hate the idea that you’ve had to put his clothes on because you…” Steve tries to think of a delicate way to say what he wants and then decides there isn’t one. “Because you spunked in your own boxers on his couch.”

“Spunked?” Bucky echos, snorting. It’s an ugly sound that shatters whatever awkwardness had been hanging between them. “Jesus Christ, Stevie.”

“Spunk.” Steve pulls a face, because it truly is an awful word. “Whatever, it was your idea.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t say spunked!”

Steve laughs, happy for the tension seeping out of his shoulders. He’s being ridiculous. Of course he’s not into Bucky. It’s biological to react to someone touching and kissing him the way Bucky was. He’s got nothing to worry about.

When Clint and Natasha return it’s to Steve and Bucky sprawled on the couch watching a documentary, Bucky dressed head to toe in Clint’s clothes.

“Tell me you’re not wearing my boxers too,” Clint pleads.

Bucky smirks in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that!! Thing's are heating up and the tension will keep rising next chapter with Chapter 4!!
> 
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	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late night baking is a recipe for disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: i take no responsibility for any pain caused by Steve and Bucky's extreme stupidity

Steve presses his face against the table, then regrets it as a sticky substance clings to his skin — apparently it’s going to be one of those days. He sits up and rubs at the mark as he waits for Bucky to return with their drinks.

He’s on his fourth coffee, and it’s not even twelve yet. He’s not sure where he will find the strength to survive his three-hour drawing class later.

Tony had kept him up all night, and he’d had an early class he couldn’t afford to miss — not that Steve can afford to miss anything, because college is expensive and he’s here on a scholarship. 

Steve doesn’t blame Tony entirely. Tony has sleeping problems, and the guy’s a genius. Steve just wishes he’d be a genius somewhere that wasn’t their apartment. Steve can’t survive off this little sleep. He’s pretty sure he’d heard a drill the other night.

He hasn’t been able to check with Tony, because he hasn’t seen him in five days. He’s barely seen Clint either, seeing as Clint’s taken refuge at Natasha’s. Steve wishes he had somewhere to hide at night; Sam and Bucky’s couch isn’t doing it for him.

“Here’s your coffee.” Bucky’s voice pulls him out of his self-pity spiral. “There’s definitely enough caffeine in it for a heart attack.”

“Just how I like it.” Steve takes a sip, not caring that it burns his tongue. “Ah, the sweet taste of death.”

Bucky doesn’t laugh, and Steve waits for the lecture to begin. Bucky doesn’t disappoint. “Look, I don’t care what Stark says, he can’t treat you like this. The apartment belongs to all of you, not just him. He can’t… I mean—” Bucky gestures to Steve “—you’re dead on your feet, Stevie.”

“He’s had a project to do.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Bucky scowls. “I had the same one, and you can check with Sam, but I sure as hell haven’t been keeping him up all night.”

“You can’t afford to build a lab in your room.”

“Do you really think that’s the point here?” 

Steve knows that’s not the point. The point is that it’d be fine for Tony to work in his room if he at least did it during the day, or maybe when Steve was at class or at work. Anything but at three in the morning. He hadn’t stopped last night. It had been full on from when Steve got home from work to about six this morning, and just as Steve was dropping off, Tony had burst in to show off his newest robot.

The feats of engineering Tony’s performed are amazing. Steve would just prefer if he could be a genius elsewhere.

“I tried to speak to him about it.” Steve curls his fingers around his cup. It’s getting cold as November progresses. Bucky and he have been ‘dating’ for nearly three weeks. “I don’t really think he knows what he’s doing.”

“He’s a genius right? How can he not know what he’s doing?”

“Tony just… gets caught up in his own world.”

Bucky shakes his head. “What would you say if Sam was treating me like this? If I looked like a stiff breeze would knock me over and had bags like bruises?”

“Sam wouldn’t.”

“Exactly! Also, you’d march right up to him and tell him to sort his own shit out! I don’t get why you won’t do it to Stark!” Bucky leans back with a huff. He hasn’t touched his drink, and Steve thinks it’ll get cold. “We’re gonna do something big tonight, okay?”

“Big?” Steve props his head up in his hand, trying to act like it’s out of curiosity. Bucky’s jaw clenches.

“Yeah, Stark always crashes after he’s finished right? So he’ll do the presentation later and then…”

“He’ll sleep for about twenty-four hours.”

“Then we’re gonna wake him up.” Bucky drags his fingers through the cream on his drink. Steve tries not to watch as he sucks it off. “After class, you’re going to go home and sleep, and then I’m coming over and we’re going all night.”

“Buck, you’ve been up all week with your own work! And I don’t think I have the energy for a night of fake sex.”

Bucky scowls before smoothing it away with a smile. “One, I’m not talking about fucking. And two, I have been up all week working, and so I’m getting my reward by pissing off Stark and late-night baking.”

“Late night baking?”

“Yep, remember? I want late-night baking. You can nap while we watch a film or some shit, all I care about is keeping Stark up at inconvenient times in the night.”

“Late-night baking,” Steve says, smiling now. “You’re an idiot.”

“Nah.” Bucky winks at him. “Just a different kind of genius.”

Steve rolls his eyes and goes back to sipping his coffee. He’ll have toget another one during class or else he’ll fall asleep at his easel. He wonders: how much coffee is too much?

Bucky’s foot brushes his own, and he glances up to see Bucky looking at him, serious expression back on his face. “You know you can always come ‘round mine right? No matter the time, call me or hell, just come over and knock on the door ‘till I wake up.”

“I’m not doing that. I’m not waking you up just so I can sleep.”

“Why not? You’d do it for me!”

“That’s different!”

“No, it’s not!”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you.” He’d contemplated going over to Bucky’s once or twice, but he knows this project is a huge part of this year’s grade, and he’d presumed Bucky had better things to do with his time than providing Steve with a place to sleep.

“Stevie.” Bucky frowns. “Do you really think you could ever inconvenience me?”

“I’m inconveniencing you right now.”

“How? By having coffee with me?”

“No, by making you pretend to date me.” Steve’s cooled it off the last few days so Bucky could focus on his studies.

“Oh, yeah, I’m having the worst time of my life with this dating thing. It’s so hard on me to hang out with my best friend and try make his life a little better.” Steve can see Bucky getting more and more worked up by the set of his jaw.

“It’s a little more than that.”

“What? Having to kiss you? You’re hardly a bad-looking guy, Steve! There’s a lot worse-looking guys I could be necking with!” Bucky’s mouth snaps shut, and he glares at his coffee.

Steve stares at him, trying to find the words to break the tension. It’s not like Bucky’s admitted anything _huge_. All he’s said is that Steve isn’t _bad_ looking. It’s hardly anything… so Steve can’t figure out why it feels like everything.

He swallows and forces a grin. “Aww, you think I’m cute, Buck?” His voice comes out even enough.

“Shut up,” Bucky mumbles.

“‘Cause you’re not so bad yourself.” It’s true. Bucky’s one of the best-looking guys Steve’s ever met. Everyone knows it, girls and guys alike.

“You’re a real dick, you know.” The smile at the corner of Bucky’s mouth betrays his words.

“I know,” Steve says. He gives Bucky a small smile that Bucky matches. He wishes all their teasing would sound less earnest. He can’t breathe properly, and he can’t blame it on his asthma either. Maybe the coffee’s gone to his head. “I learnt from the best.”

“Well, that’s no way to talk about your momma.” Steve kicks Bucky properly this time and the moment’s shattered; Steve can breathe again.

“Fuck you, Barnes.”

“I thought you already had?”

Steve kicks him again for luck. Laughing and joking with Bucky is doing more to wake him up than any coffee could. It was why he’d agreed to meet Bucky earlier; Bucky’s always able to pull Steve out of his bad moods.

“Seriously, though,” Bucky says. “We’re dating, remember? It won’t be too weird for you to stay ‘round mine a few nights.” Steve’s about to argue again when Bucky adds, “Also Bucky and Sam Jr. miss you.”

Steve rolls his eyes at Bucky’s mischievous grin. “Oh, well, if the fish miss me.”

Bucky points at him. “They have names!”

Steve laughs, and it’s like nothing ever happened. Bucky had said nothing, and Steve hadn’t read too much into his words. Steve hadn’t nearly got hard that time Bucky had pressed him down onto the couch, and Bucky certainly hadn’t appeared in any of his dreams since. They’re best friends pulling a prank on their other friends.

It’s fine. It’s easy. It’s under control.

Maybe if Steve tells himself that enough, he’ll believe it.

They text their parents asking for the best baking recipes and make a plan to meet at Steve’s later. Steve’s pretty sure Clint will be at Natasha’s again tonight, so they’ll have the place to themselves — or themselves and Tony.

Bucky has to run off soon after their conversation for his own presentation slot but promises to text Steve with the plan for later.

Steve’s excitement for the night gets him through his class, and when he gets home, he passes out in bed to the sweet sound of silence in the apartment. It won’t last for long, though. Tony better enjoy his rest while he can.

When Steve comes to, it’s dark in his room aside from a glow in the corner of the room — the sun must have set while he was sleeping.

“Hey, creep,” he mumbles, slowly propping himself up and peering across the room to where he can make out Bucky’s face illuminated softly by the light of his phone.

“Heya, pal.” Bucky’s sat in Steve’s chair, legs kicked up onto the desk with his phone in his hand. “Didn’t want to wake ya.”

“How’d you get in then?”

“Tony.” Steve can’t see Bucky’s smile clearly but he can picture _exactly_ how smug it looks. “Accidentally woke him up when you didn’t answer.”

Steve gropes around the floor for his phone and winces at the brightness of the screen. It makes him laugh though, the clear proof of just how accidental Bucky had been. Three texts and no missed calls.

“How many times did ya call Tony?”

“Twelve.”

Steve laughs, lying back down. “He’s gonna get you banned from this building.”

“After tonight, probably. I tried Clint too, but he’s at Nat’s.”

“Good.” Steve presses his face into the pillow to hide his yawn. 

Bucky catches him and laughs. “Want me to let you sleep a bit longer?”

Steve shakes his head. It’s already eight, meaning he’s slept for nearly five hours this afternoon. He’s not sure that even classifies as a nap anymore.

“You sure?” Bucky asks again. “I don’t want you falling asleep during my baking spree. The thought of those cookies got me through the presentation today.”

Steve drags himself out of bed and flicks on the flight. He hisses at the brightness and searches around for his sweats. He glances at his boxers when he notices Bucky’s gaze lingering on him, but he’s not wearing anything embarrassing, like his old boxers with the awkwardly located hole. He’s just in a pair of plain black ones. When Steve looks back, Bucky’s attention is on his phone, and Steve tries to convince himself he imagined it.

There’s no reason for Bucky to have been checking Steve out. Steve wouldn’t check Bucky out… though Bucky has a very nice chest… and good thighs. Steve’s noticed objectively in the past. He’s not blind.

Totally blind, he amends as he shoves on his glasses.

“How’d your presentation go in the end?” Steve asks.

“Decent.” Steve knows that’s Bucky-speak for good. Bucky’s far too damn modest about his own intelligence. He’s not Tony, but he’s still smart as hell. “I think Fury liked it, but it’s hard to tell with that asshole.”

Steve also knows Bucky loves Nick Fury, no matter how much he complains about him; thinks the man is god’s gift to engineering.

Bucky’s pretty easy to read.

“I’m sure you smashed it.”

“You say that every time.”

“Yeah, and you always smash it.”

Bucky pulls a face and spins around in the chair in a particularly mature manner. Steve waits for him to finish having his moment.

“So, what we baking?” Steve asks when Bucky’s facing him again.

“Cookies and cupcakes. I didn’t think putting Mr. ‘I Burn Pasta’ in charge of creating a soufflé was a good idea.”

Steve slaps Bucky’s shoulder, grinning. “That was one time!”

“One time too many.”

“Forgot you’d won young chef of the year.”

“Do you want my mom’s special cookie recipe or not? I even gluten-free-ified it for you.”

“Gluten-free-ified?” Steve smirks.

“Yep. All of us Barneses have sturdy stomachs, so normally the recipes come with gluten. And nuts. God, my mom makes the best chocolate nut cookies.”

“Maybe I’ll eat one on my deathbed.”

“They’re worth dying for.” Bucky holds a hand out and Steve takes it, pulling Bucky to his feet. “Do you know how many nut jokes I’ve got in my head right now?”

“No, and I don’t care either.”

“Do you really _nut_ care at all?”

“I _definutely_ do _nut_ care at all.”

Bucky pauses, face lighting up with glee. “That was so _imaginutive_ of you!”

“Okay, I’m done with the nut puns.” Steve leaves his room, grinning as Bucky follows him.

“Are you sure? This could be the _ultinute opportunuty_ for you!”

“That was awful.”

“Wheat, a second—” Steve turns around, eyebrows raised and Bucky shrugs sheepishly. “I ran out of nut ones!”

“So you mocked my other allergies?”

Bucky gives him a shit-eating grin. “Pretty much, yeah.” 

Steve glares at him. 

“I bought special flour for you!” Bucky says as if that’s supposed to make the puns better.

“Oh, well in that case mock away!” Steve crosses his arms and waits for Bucky to continue. 

Bucky opens his mouth as if to speak before shutting it again and sighing. “Okay, yeah, I’m out of puns.”

“What a shame,” Steve deadpans, smiling despite himself when Bucky gives him another stupid grin.

He starts to make for the kitchen when Bucky’s hands come down on his shoulders and guide him over toward the couch. “I thought we were baking?”

“We’re late-night baking, which means it’s got to get to late night first.”

“What are we doing now then?”

“Netflix and Chill.” Steve pauses in front of the couch as Bucky drops onto it. “What? I know late-night baking to you might mean nine o’clock just ‘cause you’re a grandpa, but for the youth of today, I was thinking at the very least after midnight.”

Steve sits down next to Bucky, second nature now, to position himself so he’s leaning against Bucky’s chest in case someone walks in on them. Bucky drapes his arm around his shoulders. Steve will miss the easy affection the most when they cut the act.

He’s definitely ready for a real relationship.

“How about _The Great British Bake Off_ to get us in the mood?”

“You just want to stare into Paul Hollywood’s eyes,” Steve says.

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for blue eyes. Also, he’d be a literal sugar daddy.”

Steve narrows his eyes and glares up at Bucky. “Was that another pun?”

Bucky smiles at him sweetly and puts the show on instead of answering.

Steve doesn’t mean to drop off again, but when he next opens his eyes, the contestants are making biscuits, not bread, and his head is on Bucky’s shoulder.

He doesn’t move straight away. For some reason he doesn’t want to let Bucky know he’s woken up. So he stays there despite the crick in his neck as Bucky’s fingers trace idle patterns across his arm. He’s not sure if Bucky’s even aware he’s doing it, but it feels nice.

Steve waits until someone makes a fuss about their oven not being turned on before he stirs, pressing his face into the soft fabric of Bucky’s sweatshirt and sighing.

Bucky’s fingers still. “Hey, sleepy-head. You feeling better?”

Steve nods, slowly pulling away from Bucky and stretching out on the couch. They both wince when his neck clicks. Steve rubs at it, frowning. He should have moved sooner since now he’s just risked fucking his neck up for the next few days.

Bucky bats his hand away and pushes his own thumb into the protesting muscle of Steve’s neck, massaging it. “I’m thinking grilled cheese as a snack before we bake. How’s that sound?”

“I’ve got cheese and bread.” Steve drops his head, moaning as Bucky brings up his other hand and works his shoulders. “Yes, right there. Thank you.”

One of Bucky’s hands slides over his shoulder to his chest so he can work out the knots of Steve’s back. Steve melts in Bucky’s hands.

“You’re good at this.”

Bucky lets out a huff of laughter. “Potential career option?”

“Definitely.”

Bucky laughs, squeezing Steve’s shoulder one more time before climbing off the couch and heading over to the kitchen.

Steve rolls his shoulders, stretching out fully before fumbling about for his phone. “Can you make me some coffee too?” Bucky grunts, which Steve interprets as a yes. “Can we bake now?” Steve asks. He’s decided it’s late enough.

“What’s the time?”

Steve holds his phone up in response before realizing Bucky’s back is to him. “Nearly ten.”

“Yeah, we can start on the cupcakes.”

“Do I get to decorate them?”

“Yeah, you’ve got to make them look pretty for my Insta.” Steve laughs, rolling his eyes at Bucky’s priorities. “What? I want to show off my baking prowess!” Bucky says.

“People will think this is the gayest thing we’ve done.”

“Steve, I’ve bragged about shoving my tongue in your ass, no they won’t.”

“Really? More rimming jokes?”

Bucky glances over his shoulder, grinning. “What?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Nothing.” He investigates the bags of ingredients on the counter, which leads to them arguing about whether Steve gets to pay Bucky back for half the ingredients. They don’t settle on a conclusion until their toasties are done — the conclusion is that Steve _will_ be paying Bucky back, thank you very much.

Steve sorts out the required ingredients from the recipe on Bucky’s phone while Bucky attempts to figure out how to work Tony’s overly complicated speaker — a decision Steve regrets when the first few notes of music play.

“Do I even want to know what playlist this is?”

“Hey! I made it for tonight specially!” Bucky shakes his shoulders and shimmies across the room. “Don’t you like it?” He holds his hand out for Steve to take, and Steve flicks flour at him in retaliation. “Aw, come on, Stevie!” Steve rolls his eyes and pushes the sugar over so Bucky can weigh it.

Bucky takes the bag, pouting at him pathetically until Steve jiggles his hips to the music — though he’s out of time with the beat. Bucky’s face lights up and he starts belting out the lyrics to Lady Gaga. Steve refrains until the second chorus when he finally caves and hums along. 

When Bucky smirks at him, Steve says he likes what Lady Gaga does for the LGBTQ+ community… it’s got nothing to do with “Telephone’s” catchy chorus.

It’s an accident the first time they wake Tony up — Bucky attempts to throw Steve the baking tray to put the cupcake mixture in and Steve drops it, the tinny sound echoing across the floor.

It takes two minutes for Tony’s head to poke out of his door. “What the fuck was that?” he hisses.

“Sorry.” Steve bends down to pick up the tray and waves it for Tony to see. “We’re baking.”

That makes Tony pause, but only for a second. “Why?”

Steve has no idea.

Luckily, Bucky always has an answer ready. “Celebrating submitting Fury’s project.”

“Couldn’t you do that, like, not now? In case it has escaped your attention, it’s bedtime.”

“Oh sorry, were you trying to sleep?” Steve asks, placing the cupcake wrappers into the tray. They’re yellow with pink daisies.

“Yes!”

“We’ll keep it down,” Steve says.

Tony glares at them. “Good.”

The door slams behind him and Bucky grins. Steve smiles back, beating Bucky’s hand with the wooden spoon when he tries to stick it in the mix. Steve’s smart enough to try some batter when Bucky’s not looking.

The next time they wake Tony up is on the second round of cupcake mix when they decide that stirring it is far too much effort, and it’ll be much more effective to use a mixer. Of course, because it’s Tony’s mixer there’s far too many settings for either of them to understand, so they hope for the best and fail.

Tony emerges from his room after the mixer lets out a roar more suited to the Monster Truck channel Clint likes than anything on the Food Network.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Steve wipes a smear of cake batter off his cheek, not daring to look over at Bucky. He’ll totally lose it if he does.

“I don’t think we put the lid on properly.” It’s a fight to keep his face straight.

Tony’s mouth opens and closes as he searches for the right words. 

Steve waits for him to speak and licks the batter off his finger. It tastes good.

“Is it supposed to make that noise?” Bucky asks. “I think your machine’s a little fucked.”

“I am trying to sleep! This genius needs his beauty sleep! I haven’t slept properly in five days!”

Steve knows.

“God, I’ve not slept either,” Bucky says, cheerfully. “But I thought you’d be more rested than that, honestly. Didn’t see you in the labs all week.”

“Yes. I did most of my work here. And now I want to sleep.”

“Shit, you did your work here?” Tony nods. “That’s noisy shit.”

“Yes, and now I want to sleep.”

“Of course,” Bucky says. Steve’s so focused on not laughing he doesn’t realize Bucky’s moved behind him until his arms are wrapped around Steve’s waist. “We’ll keep it down,” Bucky promises before _licking_ Steve’s cheek. Steve forgets how to breathe. “The mix is really good though, if you want some?” Bucky asks.

Tony stands there, eyes wide as Bucky mouths along Steve’s neck. “Keep. It. Down.” The door slams behind him as he leaves again.

Bucky laughs, pressing his face into Steve’s neck to hide the sound. Steve tries not to focus on the warmth of Bucky’s breath or the fact that Bucky’s lips are damp against his skin. His knees nearly buckle when the timer blares, and Bucky laughs harder, teeth scraping.

Tony’s door flies open and he emerges, comforter draped over his head so all they can see are his frantic eyes.

Steve wishes he could think of something to say, but Bucky’s almost biting Steve’s shoulder to stop himself howling with laughter. Steve wishes his thoughts would stop linking that to another situation where Bucky could be biting him.

“Cupcakes are done if you want one?” Steve manages pathetically, the only thing keeping him standing are Bucky’s arms locked around his waist.

Tony shifts the comforter just enough to allow him to speak. “What I want is for you to be quiet!”

“Have you tried noise-canceling headphones?”

Steve sees the moment that Tony catches on to what they're doing. Tony’s used that line on Steve one too many times for it not to sound familiar. Tony’s lips press together in a line so thin that they practically vanish from his face.

Steve works to keep his own face innocent as it seems Bucky will be absolutely no help in this endeavor.

Tony says nothing, he just storms back into his room, slamming the door a final time.

Neither Bucky or Steve move as Steve finally caves in to the laughter, leaning back against Bucky’s chest and gritting his teeth together to keep himself from making too much noise. Bucky lets them fall, and they collapse in a heap, Steve turning to press his face into Bucky’s chest. Steve can feel Bucky’s own laughter, as Bucky’s still got one arm around Steve’s body and seems to be biting down on his hand to conceal the sound.

“I should…” Steve gestures at the oven when he calms himself down enough to untangle his limbs from Bucky. 

“Yeah.” Bucky props himself up. He’s a mess with flour streaking his sweatshirt and cake batter in his hair. Steve has an urge to reach out and clear it for him, drag his thumb across the spot of batter right next to Bucky’s mouth. “Don’t want our hard work to burn.”

“Yeah.” Steve pulls himself off Bucky and shuffles over toward the oven to get the cupcakes out. He needs to stop thinking about Bucky that way, it’s not fair to either of them.

Part of him wants to blame Bucky for being so unfairly good looking and for suggesting that they _fake date_ in the first place, but Steve knows it’s his own fault. Bucky’s managing the plan fine; he’s not inappropriately fantasizing about licking Steve. Nope, Steve’s the creep here.

They settle down after that, making the cookies and waiting for the first batch of cupcakes to cool. Steve painstakingly ices half a butterfly onto Bucky’s hand until Bucky gets distracted causing Steve to smudge it.

They don’t put too much effort into waking Tony up, but they don’t keep quiet, and Steve’s in near hysterics when Bucky tries to spin him around the kitchen while crooning out the lyrics of Adele’s greatest hits.

They end up collapsed on the sofa at around one in the morning with more baked goods than they’ll ever need.

Steve’s feet are in Bucky’s lap, and Bucky’s got one hand wrapped around Steve’s ankle while he flicks through his phone. Steve’s trying not to pass out on the sofa.

“He made a poll for us,” Bucky says.

Steve’s eyes flicker open. “What about us?”

“Likelihood of us fucking in the kitchen.”

Steve laughs. “Outcome?”

“Eighty percent of people say we definitely ended up fucking in the kitchen.”

“Bunch of snakes.”

“Can’t trust anyone.”

“Wish we could do something to prove them right.”

“Could make some noises?”

Steve pulls a face. “Nah, that’s not enough.”

“I could pretend to fuck you up against Stark’s door?”

Steve grins and flips Bucky off. “No, I’m thinking more like… some way he can find us tomorrow morning.” 

Bucky hums in thought. “Like in our briefs on the couch?”

“Yes!” Steve sits up and Bucky gapes at him.

“I was kidding!”

“No, it’s perfect! We’ll sleep here in our briefs with a blanket and then ruin Tony’s morning too!”

Bucky looks more panicked. “But we’ll have to…” He gestures in a way that Steve supposes means _sleep intimately_.

Steve shrugs, trying to pretend he’s absolutely fine with the idea. It’ll probably be good for him to be that close to Bucky, remind himself that he can interact with him in a non-sexual manner… even though spooning Bucky on the couch is pretty sexual… but it shouldn’t matter if they’re friends. Which they are. No matter what Steve’s dick keeps trying to say.

“I mean, I’m fine, but if you’re not then—”

“I’m fine!” Bucky says quickly. “Why would it bother me?”

“Exactly.”

They both stare at the floor.

“But what if you get cold?” Bucky asks.

Steve wraps his arms around himself. “You’ll just have to keep me warm.” His teasing tone falls flat.

“Cool.” Bucky nods. Steve glances over at him to see him fingering the edge of his sweatshirt. “So should we…”

“Yeah.” Steve pulls on the neck of his hoodie and throws it on the floor. He gives Bucky a grin that he hopes doesn’t show how he feels. “Get naked… or semi-naked…”

He tries not to stare as Bucky pulls off his sweatshirt and focuses on tugging off his own sweats. _It’s only weird if you make it so_ , he reminds himself. He can handle this. This is Bucky. However, that seems to be the problem right now. It’s _Bucky._

Bucky grabs a blanket from across the room, and Steve places his glasses on the coffee table instead of looking at how Bucky’s thighs look in his briefs.

“So, how are we doing this?” Bucky asks, pausing beside the sofa, blanket in his hands.

Steve brushes his hair off his forehead. “Urm, if you lie here… I guess I could slot in front of you.”

“What if I want to be the little spoon?”

“You wanna be the little spoon?” Steve raises his eyebrows. “‘Cause I’ll spoon you if you wanna.”

“Spoon me good will ya?” Bucky grins.

Steve kicks him and steals the blanket. “Get on the couch, asshole.”

“Yes, Sir.” Bucky drops onto the couch and lies down. Steve curls up against him, his back pressed to Bucky’s chest. He angles his hips to keep his ass from being pressed against Bucky’s dick, unable to think of how his traitorous body would react to that.

When Bucky leaves tomorrow, Steve will have a long hard wank and think of anyone that isn’t Bucky.

“Let me know if you get cold,” Bucky mumbles, draping an arm around Steve.

“I’ll be fine as long as you don’t steal all the blanket.”

“You’re the blanket hogger here.”

“I have bad blood circulation.” Steve presses his toes against Bucky’s leg for emphasis.

Bucky squeezes him in retaliation. “Go to sleep, Stevie.”

“Night, Buck.”

Bucky’s body is warm against his and their breathing synchronizes until they finally fall asleep.

Steve can think of a multitude of ways he’d like to be woken up in the morning and the penetrating sound of Tony Stark’s voice isn’t one.

“You fucked on the couch didn’t you?”

Steve grumbles in response, shifting. He’d turned in his sleep and is now half sprawled on Bucky’s chest, legs entangled and his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck. Bucky’s arms are both wrapped around him now.

“I asked you a question.”

“We heard,” Bucky grunts. 

“Yet you didn’t answer.”

“Yes, we fucked on the couch.” Bucky sighs, hand trailing up and down Steve’s back, tracing his crooked spine. “Happy now?”

“What about that answer was supposed to make me happy?”

“Don’t ask questions if you don’t want to know the answer,” Steve says, propping himself up. He means to look at Tony but he gets distracted by Bucky’s half-sleepy smile. From the angle Steve’s lying he can see Bucky’s crooked front tooth. It’s a sweet imperfection, a nice reminder that Bucky’s human.

“Why did you fuck on the couch?”

“Baking makes me horny,” Bucky says.

“Everything seems to make you horny.”

Bucky grins, opening his eyes and looking at Steve. Steve tries to act like the way Bucky’s eyelashes had looked against his cheeks hadn’t hypnotized him. “You’re right, in fact…” 

Steve lets out a soft noise when Bucky pulls him up and presses their lips together. It’s slow and lazy, Bucky’s hand cradling the back of Steve’s head as they lie there slotted together.

Steve lets his hands slide across Bucky’s chest, digging into the muscle there. Bucky’s breath is stale, and Steve’s sure his is the same, but he’s too caught up in the teasing touch of Bucky’s tongue to care.

“Really?” Tony demands. “You’re going to fuck again?”

Bucky pulls away, and Steve’s left chasing his mouth, cheeks staining red.

“Morning glory,” Bucky says. Steve kisses him again for luck, letting out a noise of agreement.

“I hate you both.”

“I’d get out of here then. Unless you want a show.” Bucky squeezes Steve’s ass and Tony squawks.

Steve’s too distracted to laugh, because he’s too busy figuring out how to angle his body to ensure Bucky doesn’t realize that Steve’s dick is getting interested in the proceedings.

He’s so focused on not falling off the couch or giving the game away to Tony that Bucky’s kiss takes him by surprise. He can feel Bucky smiling into the kiss and nips his bottom lip in retaliation. Bucky’s fingers tug his hair in response.

Steve can hear Tony talking, but he’s distracted by the feel of Bucky’s lips against his and the slow easy way that Bucky kisses him. It’s no wonder that Bucky’s hookups never want to let him go.

Tony announces he’s leaving, and Steve doesn’t bother to reply because Bucky’s knotted his hands in Steve’s hair, and it’s taking all of his will not to drape his body across Bucky’s. He’d like to see _anyone_ be kissed by someone as skilled as Bucky Barnes and remain completely unaroused.

It’s…

Steve doesn’t have time to figure out where that thought was going, because he misjudges his attempt to pull away from Bucky now that Tony’s left and nearly falls off the couch. Bucky catches him at the last second and heave him back up, laughing.

Steve tries to stop Bucky from pulling him close, but he ends up fumbling and twisting the wrong way in his panic. Bucky inhales sharply, fingers pressing into Steve’s skin, and Steve knows there’s no way that Bucky’s missed that Steve’s sporting an erection.

“Look,” Steve starts, but then Bucky shifts and Steve trails off, words forgotten because Bucky’s own erection is pressing into his hip. “Oh,” is all he can say.

“Yeah,” Bucky says softly. They stare at each other, eyes wide. Steve feels he ought to say something to brush it off, explain that it’s natural, and doesn’t have to mean anything. However, he’s left utterly speechless by the feel of Bucky against him. Bucky’s lips are still shiny and slick and Steve wants to kiss them again. “Urm…” Bucky says eloquently.

Steve’s had enough of talking. He’s always been better at acting before he thinks things through, and if he stops to think this through, he’ll probably realize what a horrible idea it is. Right now he’s acting on the memory of Bucky’s kiss and the feel of his dick against him. He lunges up and kisses Bucky, and this is nothing like any of their stage kisses. Bucky kisses back with just as much enthusiasm, some of that neat skill gone; it’s clumsy now, but somehow the fact it’s genuine makes it so much better.

Bucky’s fingers press into Steve’s sides hard enough to bruise as he drags Steve onto him fully, and Steve can’t help the moan he lets out as his dick brushes against Bucky’s. It’s really been a damn long time since he got laid. Bucky swallows his moan greedily, rocking his hips up and kissing Steve like he’ll die if he stops.

Steve wonders when the last time Bucky got laid was. He promptly decides to stop thinking about Bucky with other people and focuses on exploring Bucky’s body, hands mapping out the strong planes of muscle and soft skin. 

Bucky seems to be doing the same thing, his hands unable to stay still as he moves them over Steve’s body, never stopping kissing him for a second. Steve doesn’t want him to.

He’s fully hard now, and they’re grinding against each other like teenagers who have never had sex. Steve has no intention slowing down.

He gasps as Bucky’s thumbs brush over his nipples and Bucky’s own breathing hitches.

Bucky works a more deliberate path down Steve’s chest until his fingers trace the band of Steve’s briefs, and Steve near enough whines as Bucky’s fingers slip under the band, so close, yet so far, from where he wants to be touched.

When Bucky doesn’t move any further, Steve finally breaks the kiss and nearly comes in his pants when he pulls back.

Bucky’s staring up at Steve with dark eyes and flushed cheeks.

Steve swallows. “No safe words?”

Bucky shakes his head. “English only.”

“Good,” Steve says, kissing Bucky again. He does whine when Bucky finally wraps his hand around his cock, bucking up into his hand. “God.”

“It’s just Bucky,” Bucky’s tone is too reverent for his joke to land, and Steve’s laughter is overtaken by another moan as Bucky works his hand up and down his shaft.

Steve’s determined not to be outdone, and if Bucky’s still able to make jokes then Steve’s doing something wrong. He reaches between them, squeezing the bulge in Bucky’s pants and smirking as Bucky gasps.

He rubs his thumb across the head of Bucky’s dick, proud of the wet smear on Bucky’s boxers. He’d caused that, he’d reduced Bucky Barnes to a shivering mess underneath him.

“Please, Stevie.” Steve watches the rise and fall of Bucky’s chest, the way his tongue slips out to lick his lips.

“Please what?”

“Fucking touch me!”

“I am touching you?”

Bucky’s own hand stills against Steve’s cock. Steve laughs, slipping his hand under Bucky’s briefs and grasping his cock in his hand. The sounds Bucky makes are so much better than anything he’d done while they’d pretended to hook up. It’s throatier and his eyes flutter shut as his neck arches.

“Yes,” Bucky says.

Steve takes a moment to consider the fact he’s holding Bucky’s cock in his hand, and it’s thick and warm, and there’s no way this is a dream. He doesn’t let himself dwell on what this means, because he’s too concerned with seeing what other noises he can tease out of Bucky. Bucky jerks Steve off, and his mind goes utterly blank.

All he can think is that Bucky’s giving him the best handjob he’s ever had, and that perhaps this is how Bucky jerks himself off.

Bucky comes first with a mumbled blur of pleas and words that Steve can’t understand. His mouth falls open, and his grip on Steve’s cock tightens enough that Steve comes too, collapsing down against Bucky’s chest and pressing his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck. They work each other through their orgasms before pulling their hands away.

There’s a sticky mess in Steve’s boxers, and he knows he ought to move and clean up before it dries, but he knows if he does it will shatter the moment. They’ll be forced to acknowledge that they’ve just gotten each other off, no performance included. He doesn’t know what to do; he doesn’t know how to handle this information.

The fake relationship wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Bucky doesn’t speak either, and Steve can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing.

Eventually, he shifts his weight and Bucky lets out a grunt.

“Am I squishing you?” Steve asks. He doesn’t want to move, but this gives him a reason to.

“Nah, you’re light as a feather.”

Steve pushes himself up and off Bucky, settling at the other end of the couch. He can’t have this conversation while straddling Bucky.

“So,” he starts.

“So,” Bucky echos. 

“It’s—” Steve says just as Bucky goes, “Can—”

They trail off and smile awkwardly at each other. Bucky gestures for him to go on.

Steve chews on his lip before speaking. He’s got to make sure he plays this right. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, right?”

Steve’ll admit that could have come out more tactfully. Bucky stares at him blankly, picking at a loose thread on the couch.

Steve plows on. “I mean, neither of us is getting laid, but we’re having to hook up so it makes sense that we’d get a bit…” He waves his hands, hoping Bucky gets what he means. “And it makes sense that we’d use each other to get off because it’s not like we can hook up with other people while the plan’s underway.” Steve pauses, mind racing. “Of course, if you want to quit the whole dating thing now because this has made it too weird for you then please tell me…”

Bucky continues playing with the thread.

“Please speak,” Steve begs. He needs to know that they haven’t fucked this up. This is him and Bucky… 

Bucky looks up and shrugs. “I mean, yeah. All we did was jerk each other off. It doesn’t have to be deep at all.”

“Oh, thank god.” Steve lets out the breath he was holding and gives Bucky a crooked grin. “It was good though?”

“Yeah, it was good.”

Steve frowns and pokes Bucky’s foot. “Really?”

“Really, Stevie.” Bucky smiles; it’s small and awkward but genuine enough that Steve feels some of his worry slide away. “It was really good.”

“Yeah… for me too.” Steve tries for another grin and is just happy it doesn’t end up as a grimace.

“I’m glad.”

“Me too.” Steve stretches out, wrinkling his nose when he realizes the uncomfortable situation in his boxers. “I’m going to shower.”

Bucky laughs, snapping the elastic of his own boxers. “Yeah, I should probably head home. Sort my life out.”

“Oh… don’t feel like I’m kicking you out! You’re welcome to shower and—”

“I’ve got work to do anyway.” Bucky grabs his clothes off the floor and tugs them on. “I will bring some of the cookies with me though.”

“Okay, but take Sam the cake I iced for him, too.”

“Of course.”

They fumble about getting dressed, and Steve pauses at the door as Bucky steps outside.

“Promise we’re okay, Buck?”

“Promise, Stevie.” He shrugs. “I mean what’s a little orgasm between friends?”

Steve laughs, and Bucky winks at him before heading down the corridor, not looking back. Steve closes the door and tries not to overthink what they’ve just done.

He fails.

* * *

Steve doesn’t regret what happened between him and Bucky… not exactly anyway.

It’d been fun, a good way to step back from the knife’s edge he’d been balancing on. Also, Bucky gave a mean handjob. However… it had done little to dull the attraction building inside him. He can’t get Bucky’s orgasm face out of his head; the way his nose scrunched up and his mouth fell open. The gasps and sounds he’d made.

Also, Steve’s pretty sure Bucky’s avoided him since. He’s not a hundred percent certain, seeing as Bucky had gone home to celebrate Thanksgiving a couple of days after they’d… hooked up? Jerked each other off? Steve doesn’t know how to think of it.

But he’s certain there’s something off in Bucky’s texts. He normally texts Steve constantly, a stream of updates on his life, from his body temperature to whether he saw a cute cat on the sidewalk. Steve had been looking forward to Bucky’s Brooklyn texts, as he’d not been able to get enough time off work to go home himself, but they’ve been lacking.

He hopes he hasn’t overstepped the line. Bucky _had_ consented, Steve offered safe words and a chance to back out. They were both into it… Steve thinks.

He wants to ask Bucky what’s going on, but he doesn’t want to push it. He’s half convinced Bucky’s going to come back to Marvel and tell Steve he’s done with the whole fake relationship, which Steve’ll understand. He’s been asking a lot from Bucky with it.

He doesn’t even care about the fake relationship or their plan, not when he’s risking losing Bucky. He’d happily go back to sleeping on Bucky’s couch if it meant their friendship was okay.

Steve wishes Bucky were here so they could actually talk about it in person.

Nearly all of Steve’s friends have gone home for Thanksgiving, meaning that campus is a wasteland, but Steve’s been able to catch up with some work that he’s been putting off because of spending virtually all of his time with Bucky. He hasn’t put enough hours into the studio recently.

Tony had to go home for the big Stark Thanksgiving that he hates. Steve doesn’t envy him. While Steve and his mom don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, at least they enjoy being in each other’s presence. Tony’s relationship with his parents is more… fractured.

Clint brought Natasha back to his old foster dad’s place and tried to pretend he wasn’t nervous about what it meant for their relationship.

So Steve focuses on the art deadline he has before Christmas and agrees to meet Peggy for lunch. It’s not a bad way to spend his time, but he misses Bucky. A lot.

When Steve arrives at his and Peggy’s favorite sandwich shop, she’s already sitting at their usual table, not because Steve’s late — he’s perfectly on time, thank you — but because Peggy’s always early. Always.

“Hello, darling.” Peggy smiles, and Steve feels some of his worries leaving him. He wishes he could speak to Peggy about the mess he’s gotten himself into with Bucky. She’s always been so good at stepping back from situations and viewing them logically.

“Heya, Pegs,” Steve says, kissing Peggy on the cheek and sliding into the seat opposite her. “You look beautiful.” She always does.

“It’s the new lipstick.”

“It’s a great color.”

Peggy smiles again. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Steve picks up a menu even though he already knows what he will order. “So, how have you been?”

“Good, though I must say I’m looking forward to the holidays.”

“Are you going home?”

“Yes.” Peggy clutches her hands to her chest. “Three whole weeks of British people, none of you loudmouth Yanks.”

Steve laughs. “Don’t let Angie hear you calling her a Yank.”

Peggy points a perfectly manicured nail at him. “You’re the only witness.”

“And my lips are sealed.”

Steve is not stupid enough to mess with Peggy or Angie. He’s not sure anyone’s that stupid.

A waiter comes over and takes their order, and Steve tries not to smirk too much when he turns on the charm with Peggy. He can’t say he blames the guy, but it’s funny to watch.

Steve hadn’t exactly tried to charm Peggy so much as joined in when she’d been debating about how frankly sexist and homophobic a book in their English class had been. They’d made the teacher and the class hate them, but they’d found each other.

“What about you?” Peggy asks. “How’s Bucky?”

Steve’s ready for her question this time and manages not to choke.

“He’s good. We’re good. Really good. He’s gone home for Thanksgiving, but we’re talking every…” Steve’s not sure he’s spoken to Bucky since yesterday morning.

Peggy’s eyebrows arch, and Steve realizes he’s made a critical mistake. “Troubles in paradise?”

“No,” Steve says quickly. There’s no trouble with him and Bucky — at least none he has any proof of because Bucky won’t speak to him properly. Steve supposes that’s an answer in itself. “We’re good, genuinely, I mean we’re trying to figure out the dynamics of the whole thing still, but…” He shrugs.

“But?” Peggy prompts.

Steve takes his glasses off and cleans them on the hem of his sweater. He really wishes he weren’t lying to Peggy, but perhaps she can still help him out with his Bucky problem. He just has to word it right.

He can’t tell her _Bucky and I have been faking this whole dating thing to get back at Tony and Clint, but it’s accidentally gone too far and we ended up jerking each other off and now I don’t know what to do_ , but he can tell her that he’s worried he’s ruining his and Bucky’s friendship.

This would be easier if he knew what was going on in Bucky’s head… or if Steve could at least pretend he wasn’t _still_ attracted to Bucky. He’d do anything for the handjob to have been all he needed and for whatever he’s feeling now to go away. However, his attraction to Bucky doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.

“Shouldn’t it be weird talking to my ex about my current boyfriend?” Steve teases.

Peggy smiles at him, soft enough he can tell she knows he’s genuinely nervous. “Not when said ex is as brilliant as me.”

He can’t fault her there.

“I’m just worried,” he says, playing with the corner of his napkin. “Like, what if Bucky and I go wrong and…”

“And it ruins your friendship?”

Steve nods.

“Sweetheart, I mean...” Peggy reaches across the table for Steve’s hands and he entwines their fingers. “You must have some idea how Bucky looks at you.”

Steve shrugs. He used to know how Bucky looked at him. He used to know exactly what Bucky saw when he looked at him.

Bucky saw Steve as someone whom he could tell everything to because that was simply how they worked. Bucky saw Steve as someone whom he broke his hand for back in second year because Steve got into a fight he couldn’t finish. Bucky saw Steve as someone who was definitely more trouble than he was worth, but Bucky stuck by him anyway.

Bucky looked at Steve and saw his best friend, and until Monday it had never been any different.

Steve doesn’t know how Bucky will look at him now.

“Bucky looks at you like you hung the stars,” Peggy says, squeezing his hands. “Which is fitting, seeing as you look at him like he’s the sun you revolve around.”

Steve wants to make a joke about how awfully sappy Peggy sounds. Instead he says, “He’s my best friend.”

Of course, they look at each other like that. Steve can’t think of anyone aside from his mom that means more to him than Bucky does.

“Exactly. There is nothing either of you could do to push the other one away for good. You’re Steve and Bucky, Barnes and Rogers. You will be fine whatever happens in this relationship, you’ve just got to keep talking to each other.” She squeezes Steve’s hands once more before leaning back. “I have no doubts about the two of you, but in the one in a million chance I’m wrong, you’ll still be fine. Look at me and you, we’re still good friends.”

Steve smiles. Peggy’s right, all he’s got to do is talk to Bucky and clear the air. Steve can swallow down his growing attraction for Bucky for the sake of their friendship. And if they can’t get over one little handjob then their friendship isn’t as strong as they thought it was. Steve knows they’ll be fine. They’re Steve and Bucky after all.

“Why are you always right?” He asks.

Peggy laughs, flicking a loose curl behind her shoulder. “I’m just good like that.”

The waiter, who has learned better than to try and flirt with Peggy, sticks to smiling politely when he places the sandwiches on the table in front of them.

“Thanks, Peg,” Steve says when the waiter is gone again.

“Anytime, darling,” Peggy says before moving on to talk about Angie’s upcoming show.

Steve makes her promise to get him tickets and enjoys the rest of lunch with his Bucky worries sated. For now.

* * *

Steve hovers outside Sam and Bucky’s door trying to find the courage to buzz. He’d had this whole speech planned out in his head after yesterday’s lunch, but Sam had thrown it off by inviting him over for a movie night with him and Bucky.

Steve’s original plan had been to go over to Bucky’s anyway and ask if they could talk, lay it all out in the open and go from there. Or not lay it all out in the open per se, but clear the air at least. Accept the fact they’d jerked each other off and there was no going back, ask if Bucky still wanted to continue to fake date and promise he understood if Bucky no longer wanted to, and then gauge how Bucky was feeling in general post the… dick… touching… incident…

Steve’s doing okay now that he’s spoken to Peggy. He’s accepted that yes, he’s attracted to Bucky, but that doesn’t have to mean anything. He’d always known Bucky was attractive… it’s fact not an opinion.

Especially when the Sam's voice comes through the speaker, sounding like he's trying not to laugh. “The fuck you standing on our doorstep for, Rogers?” Steve can hardly admit it’s because he’s worried about seeing Bucky.

He hesitates again outside of Sam and Bucky's apartment until Sam opens the door and forces him inside. Bucky’s there sprawled out on the couch looking no less attractive than he’d been when Steve had seen him last and Steve’s body is developing an unhealthy reaction to the sight of Bucky on couches.

“How did you know I was out here?” Steve asks to say something.

“You breathe really heavy,” Bucky says, his attention on the TV.

Steve wants to demand that Bucky look at him, but he doesn’t see that ending well. “Well, it’s not my fault you assholes don’t have a lift.”

“Not all of us live with Tony Stark.” Sam steps aside to let Steve into the room.

Steve’ll admit one benefit of living with Tony is the lift.

“Yeah, some of us have working lungs,” Bucky says. He glances over at Steve, grinning like it’s any other day. Steve tries to pretend he wasn’t hoping for more of a reaction. This is what he should want, everything back to normal.

“If you’re going to be rude I won’t give you these,” Steve says, pulling a packet of Sour Patch Kids out of his satchel and waving it in Bucky’s direction.

“On second thought, working lungs are overrated,” Bucky says.

Steve rolls his eyes and throws the candy in Bucky’s direction. Bucky catches it and tears it open gleefully.

“How was Thanksgiving?” Steve asks.

Sam shuts the door behind him. “Great, but I’m pretty sure I’m never going to eat again.”

“Same,” Bucky says through a mouthful of candy.

Sam sighs. “How are you not obese? You should be obese. I go running every day and you sit there eating candy and look like that.”

Bucky grins. “Good genes.”

Steve wishes Bucky had worse genes. It would make his life easier.

“What film are we watching?” Steve forces himself to take the seat next to Bucky on the couch. It’s what he’d normally do. It’s where he always sits.

“ _Elf_.” Bucky offers him a Sour Patch Kid.

“It’s not even December yet.”

“That’s what I said.” Sam flops down into the armchair. “But apparently—”

“It’s after Thanksgiving! We’re allowed to watch Christmas films now!” Bucky pretends to throw a candy at Sam’s head before popping it in his mouth. “If you’re going to be Grinchy you can go somewhere else.”

“I live here!”

“You have a perfectly nice bedroom that you can sit and hate Christmas in if you so desire.”

“You have a perfectly nice bedroom to sit and watch your excessively early Christmas films in!”

Bucky turns to Steve imploringly. “You want to watch _Elf_ , right Stevie?”

Steve has negative interest in watching _Elf_. He doesn’t find Will Ferrell particularly funny, and he knows there are a lot better Christmas films. “I don’t mind.”

“That’s a no,” Sam says.

Bucky’s mouth tightens, and he looks away from Steve. There’s an edge to him, too sharp to merely be irritated that Steve doesn’t want his film. Perhaps he can tell that Steve’s struggling to pretend nothing happened between them.

“Fine,” Bucky says. “Then we’ll watch _The Grinch_.”

Steve doesn’t have it in him to say anything against the film. He pulls his packet of Red Vines from his bag and sucks on the end of one as Sam and Bucky banter back and forth until the film’s finally on.

He definitely needs to speak to Bucky when the film is over. It’s never been this difficult to be in Bucky’s presence before.

He keeps to his side of the couch and tries not to think about how strange it is to not be touching Bucky at all. Even before they’d started fake dating they’d never sat this rigidly apart. Steve can feel every inch hanging between them. He hates it.

It’s easy enough to pretend with Sam’s presence, with him filtering an easy stream of jokes and comments, but when halfway through the movie he excuses himself to take a call from Riley, his project partner, the silence between Steve and Bucky becomes too obviously loud.

Steve knows he doesn’t have the best grip on his emotions, but he needs to do something about the situation. He’s just forgotten what exactly he planned to do.

“Buck,” he says softly, reaching out a foot and prodding Bucky with it.

“Yeah?” Bucky keeps his eyes on the TV.

“Can we talk?”

“We’re talking now, aren’t we?”

Steve reminds himself that hitting Bucky over the head with a cushion would not be fruitful in the long term.

“Yeah, but talk about… you know…” Steve trails off.

Bucky glances over his shoulder toward Sam’s room before sighing. “Look, if this is about what happened last week, I already told you it was nothing. You don’t need to worry, Stevie.”

“I know… but I just wanted to make sure. I wasn’t sure if you were being distant or not, and I didn’t want to think it was because of… you know… but I couldn’t think of—”

Bucky cuts his rambling off. “Thanksgiving is always manic with my family, and I was juggling studying too. I’m sorry if I made you think I’d thought the whole thing was a big deal.” Bucky smiles at him.

Steve knows he’s supposed to be relieved. Bucky’s assuring him that what happened between them isn’t a big deal, and they’re going to move on as normal. It’s what he’s supposed to want.

“I’m glad,” Steve says, because maybe if he says it out loud, it’ll be true. “But if you want to stop the whole fake dating thing because you feel uncomfortable then I’ll—”

“My priority is still fixing your roommate situation, punk. I’m not going to drop it just because we’ve—” Bucky gestures awkwardly “—you know.”

Steve smiles. “Thanks.”

Bucky shrugs. “What are friends for?”

Steve’s starting to feel like most friends don’t do this kind of thing.

“Exactly,” he says anyway. “And it’s not like it wasn’t good, ‘cause it was.”

Bucky’s quiet for a second too long, and Steve worries that he’s overstepped and what they should really do is just pretending the whole thing never happened. “Yeah, it was good.”

Good enough that Steve can’t stop thinking about it and would like to do it again. He should call off this fake dating thing, get everything back to normal, but he’s not going to. He’s an idiot like that.

Before Steve can say anything stupid, Sam cuts the conversation short by re-entering the room bemoaning Riley’s ability to do anything on time.

“They’re gonna fuck,” Bucky mock-whispers to Steve, who laughs. They grin at each other as Sam yells at them, and Steve vows to himself that he’ll get over his attraction to Bucky and focus on their friendship because it’s far too valuable for him to ever lose it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping to have chapter 5 up for next friday again (im shocked that this schedule is working) and its home for the holidays for Steve and Bucky aka Christmas Chapter !!!
> 
> Kudos and comments are the best things since sliced bread
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@gracie137blogs](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com) if you want to talk about the fic or anything !!
> 
> If you enjoyed please do promote the fic on tumblr by reblogging this [post](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com/post/180660689685/fic-karmas-a-fake-orgasm)


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky make Christmas plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there's a lot more softness and a lot less stupidity in this chapter !! there's also now embedded art of Steve and his Queer Pride badges, painted by yours truly in her return to drawing :)
> 
> thank you so much for all the support so far!! its genuinely been so lovely and all your comments mean so much to me as we approach the end now !! i've been frantically writing to keep up and have also started a Bucky POV prequel involving their first meeting and a few other events pre this fic -- this Bucky series will involve his POV from scenes in this too -- and Chapter One will be up soon !!!
> 
> Anyway, as always enjoy !!!

As December begins, and the rush of finals and deadlines hits, Steve doesn’t have much time to see Bucky. He certainly doesn’t have time to work out ways to wind up Clint and Tony.

Steve spends the first week of December locked in the art studio until Tony and Clint come and forcibly remove him for a couple of hours to make him remember what fresh air is.

The apartment’s a shit-hole, but Steve doesn’t have the energy or the time to care. Also there have been no overnight visits from significant others seeing as Natasha is on a Clint-ban until her exams are over, and even when Pepper’s over she doesn’t look up from her neatly made flashcards.

Steve misses hanging out with Bucky, but he also misses not having paint in his hair at all times, so it’s just a consequence of finals week.

With term drawing to a close Steve’s painfully aware that he and Bucky need to figure out exactly what they’re doing regarding their fake relationship. He’d never intended for it to draw out this long and if it wasn’t for finals he probably would have ended it sooner. Time, like his complete and utter control of this relationship, has slipped away from him.

“Hello, is anyone there?” Tony yells obnoxiously as if he can’t see them on his own screen.

Steve sighs, his feet resting in Bucky’s lap as he frowns at Tony’s sun-burnt face. “Obviously, we’re here, we answered your call.”

“Ever heard of sunscreen?” Bucky asks, massaging Steve’s calves.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“You’re the same color as Nat’s hair.” Clint snickers.

“I’m not burnt.”

“That’s what burnt people say,” Bucky says.

“No, I’m not burnt. I am merely in the pre-tanning stage. Back me up, Pep!”

“You’re in the pre-developing-a-brain stage,” they hear Pepper sigh in response.

“That is not backing me up!”

“She’s right though,” Steve says.

Tony glares at them all, which turns out to be much less intimidating with his red demeanor. “How’s Barbados?” Steve can be polite.

“Oh the usual. Pepper’s burnt—”

“Says you!” Pepper interjects.

Tony continues: “Dad’s delayed his flight, and mom‘s decided the hotel staff hate her.”

“Why?” Bucky asks, pulling Steve onto his lap. Steve swats at him but allows it. “I love rich people problems,” Bucky whispers in Steve’s ear, and Steve grins. He pinches Bucky’s thigh because Tony’s their friend, but he can’t help but agree. He hates the shit Tony has to go through with his dad, but he’s eager to find out what the hotel staff have done to Maria Stark.

“Last night it was something to do with the cut of the lamb.”

“The nerve!” Clint gasps.

“Honestly,” Tony sighs. “We’ll probably never return after such a grave insult.” Laughing, Steve rests his head against Bucky’s. “Anyway, the reason for my call aside from wanting to remind you all of how much better looking I am, is I’m having a cleaner come in to clean all our shit up, and I need to know when to book her in for.”

“Buck’s driving me home tomorrow.”

Tony turns to Clint.

“Yeah, I’m gone tomorrow.”

“Brilliant! Clint please make sure there are no new life forms in your room, and Steve, can you and your significant sexual deviant please make sure no sex toys are lying around.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take the dildos with us,” Bucky says.

Tony winces. He should really know better.

They keep talking for a while before Tony and Pepper have to leave for dinner, and Steve and Bucky head into Steve’s room to pack — and to face what they’ve avoided so far.

“So,” Steve starts, opening his suitcase and laying it on his bed. “What do we do now?”

“I’d start with your underwear.” Bucky drops down beside Steve’s suitcase. So much for being useful.

“Thanks, mom.” Steve rolls his eyes. “I meant about us, you know—” he gestures between them “—our relationship.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, playing with the duvet. “I dunno.”

Useful.

Steve starts going through his drawers for his holiday clothes. “I mean, we probably should have called it off earlier, but finals.”

“Finals,” Bucky agrees. Steve folds his underwear and puts it in the case. “I mean, do you want to call it off?”

Steve opens his closet. “I dunno… I mean, I never meant for it to go on this long, but at the same time… I don’t think we can tell them now.” They can’t exactly admit it to Tony over Facetime… certainly not while Tony’s looking that red. Also the impact could be lost by a four-week break.

“Well, have they got better?”

“During finals, the place was nearly infested, but I wasn’t here, and they’ve stopped the sex stuff, but that’s because we’ve done it more, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

They ought to stop. They’ve already crossed the line once and barely recovered, and he’s worried they could risk doing something they can’t come back from. However, he’s also had more fun pretending to be in a relationship with Bucky than he has in a long time, and a part of him doesn’t want it to end yet.

“My worry is…” Bucky keeps playing with the duvet. “We get back next semester and they start it all up again, and you’re back to being on my couch.”

Steve pulls what he’s pretty sure is one of Bucky’s hoodies out of the back of his closet — Bucky’s smile tells him he’s right. “So maybe we could keep it up and see how they are when we’re back? I mean we’ll only see them on New Year’s, so otherwise it’s back to normal. Yeah?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Pausing, Steve clutches another item of clothing that is definitely Bucky’s to his chest. “You sure? ‘Cause if you want to stop this, just tell me and—”

Bucky rolls off the bed, laughing. “I haven’t used my safe word yet, and I’m not planning to. You know me, Stevie. I’m all in.” Steve can always count on Bucky. He takes the shirt from Steve’s hand and grins. “I’ve been looking for this.”

“Sorry, you can have it back.” It’s a really comfy shirt.

Bucky inspects it before throwing it in Steve’s suitcase. “Nah, you can keep it.”

“Buck.”

“What?” Bucky shrugs, lying back down on Steve’s bed. “You look good in it.”

“Shut up,” Steve mutters and tries to ignore the warmth spreading through him at Bucky’s compliment. He wishes Bucky didn’t make him feel this way. He doesn’t seem to have much control over his desires anymore.

Certainly Steve needs a break from playing up the relationship. It’s been good for him these last couple of weeks to get some space from the intimacy they’d established. Going back to normal over the holidays will be good for them. Steve doesn’t think they’ve forgotten how to be just friends, but they’ve certainly complicated it.

It’s the thought of _back to normal_ that lets him pretend he’s not checking out the way Bucky’s biceps look in his red sweater as they heave their stuff into Bucky’s shitty car for the journey home the next day. He refuses to acknowledge that Bucky sucking whipped cream off his thumb in Starbucks is hypnotizing because normal means Steve doesn’t want to kiss Bucky. Normal is not being attracted to his best friend.

It’s four hours back to Brooklyn with moderate traffic, and there’s no weird tension, which is good because that means they’re getting back to normal. _Normal_.

If Steve repeats the word to himself enough maybe he’ll believe it.  
All worries fly out of Steve’s mind when Bucky turns onto Steve’s street in Brooklyn, and Steve sees his mom already waiting outside their building. He’s out of the car and into his mom’s arms before Bucky’s finished parking.

“I thought you had work!” Steve says. She’s still in her nurse’s scrubs, and he can smell the hospital chemicals, but he doesn’t care, because underneath it all is the soft floral perfume she’s worn all her life.

His mom’s even shorter and more petite than him, so Steve’s able to bury his face in her hair and breathe her in. No amount of calls or Facetime can make up for the real thing.

“I got off early,” she says. She squeezes him tightly. “I wanted to be here when you got home.”

“You didn’t—” Steve starts, but his mom hushes him.

She steps back, holding onto his arms, and tuts. “Have you been eating properly?”

“Mom!”

“Steven.”

“He’s spent the last couple of weeks trying to survive off paint fumes, but we’ve kept him alive.”

Steve glares over at Bucky, who’s parked his car and has unloaded Steve’s stuff. Steve debates trying to give Bucky the middle finger for ratting him out, but there’s no way his mom won’t notice.

“Hey, Sarah.” Bucky’s got his most charming smile on, so Steve settles for rolling his eyes. He’ll never win with both his mom and Bucky working together.

“Hello, Bucky. You been taking good care of my Stevie?” Sarah says with a wry smile. Steve glares at her.

“Don’t I always?”

“And has he been taking good care of you?”

Bucky pretends to consider it. “He’s done his best.”

“That’s all I ask.” His mom squeezes Steve’s cheek and winks at him. Steve rolls his eyes again because he’s accepted his fate. There is nothing his mom and Bucky enjoy more than teasing him — together they’re merciless.

He wants to pull his mom in for another hug because her hugs are the best cure to the stress he’s been under, but he can’t leave Bucky to unpack his stuff alone. Well, Bucky would like nothing more than for Steve to leave him to unpack alone, but Bucky’s a worrywart, and Steve has no intention of letting him have his way about this.

Bucky insists on helping them bring Steve’s stuff upstairs, but when Sarah invites him to stay for a cup of tea, he apologizes and says he better get to his own house before his mom hunts him down.

Bucky leaves with a promise to say hi to his folks and to come back soon.

“So, how was your term?” Sarah asks.

_Well,_ Steve thinks. _After being driven to near madness by my roommates, Bucky and I decided it would be a good idea to pretend we were dating so that we could show them how infuriating it is to have people always showing excessive PDA and making a mess; however, slight problem, as you’ve noticed Bucky’s pretty good looking and really charming, and somewhere along the line my head got confused._

“Long,” Steve settles on. He puts the kettle on. “I’m happy to be home.”

“I’m happy to have you home.” His mom wraps her arms around him and Steve lets himself sink into her embrace. Home is what he needs right about now.

* * *

"Do you think a six-year-old girl would like this?"

Steve glances over at the doll Bucky’s inspecting. “That looks like something from a horror movie.”

“Don’t be rude, it’s just—” Bucky pulls a face at the doll and shoves it back on the shelf “—Yeah, you’re right it’s creepy as shit.” He groans, nose scrunching up as he pouts. “What the fuck do six-year-old girls like?”

“Why don’t you ask your mom?”

“Cheating.” Bucky scowls at the row of terrifying dolls. “Becks said she’s got Mary something awesome this year, and she totally won at her birthday, so I need a good present.”

“How about we move away from the _Annabelle_ prop shelf then?” Steve’s pretty sure that doll will appear in his nightmares at this rate. “We’ll find her something, okay?”

Bucky huffs but leaves the dolls alone.

Mary is Bucky’s six-year-old cousin (of sorts) — Steve gets lost with how big Bucky’s family is. Steve’s is only him and his mom — and every Christmas and birthday, Bucky and Becca compete to try to win Mary’s love. Once again, despite Steve’s utter lack of knowledge about kids, he’s been dragged along to help.

“What does she like doing?” Steve picks up a Barbie Princess doll. "Little girls like Barbies and princesses, right? This doll is killing two birds with one stone.”

“I don’t know!” Bucky groans. “All she wanted to do at Thanksgiving was play horses, which involved me crawling around on my hands and knees with her on my back.”

“So her ideal Christmas present is you? Just stick a bow on your head or something.”

“Yeah, great idea! I’ll just stick a bow on my head and lie amongst the presents.”

“Sounds good to me.” Steve’s mind takes the image to a much filthier place where Bucky’s wearing a lot less clothing and just the ribbon. He needs to hook up with someone who isn’t Bucky, pronto. The problem is that in Brooklyn, Bucky _is_ Steve’s social life. Steve doesn’t have any friends outside of college, seeing as no one had really liked him in high school — any friendships Steve had had were shallow enough that without forced proximity, they’d all drifted apart.

Steve doesn’t mind. He’s got brilliant friends now, and for all his complaining he wouldn’t trade them for anything. He sometimes can’t believe how lucky he is. He’d dreamed of college being different from high school. He’d prayed that college would be somewhere where he wasn’t only accepted, but liked, and it had happened. Sure there were some people who didn’t like him, resented having him in class because of his outspoken nature, but Steve’s not bothered. His real friends support him.

“Steve.” Bucky clicks his fingers in his face. “Stop staring longingly at the Barbie and help me find a present.”

“What’s wrong with this Barbie?”

“She already owns it.” Bucky sighs. “Spoiled brat.”

“She’s spoiled because you spoil her,” Steve says with a wry smirk. Steve’s never seen anyone dote on a child like Bucky does on Mary. If Bucky ever has kids, he will end up wound utterly around their fingers.

“It’s not just me!”

Bucky’s right, the entire Barnes family bends over backwards for their youngest member, and she knows it. She’s a sweet kid, though, Steve will give her that.

“Does she have any hobbies? I remember one Christmas back when my mom was dating Andy, they got me this art stuff — must’ve cost them an arm and a leg — and I thought it was the best thing.”

That had been one of Steve’s best Christmases ever. His mom and Andy had been dating for three years and, they’d pooled their resources together to get Steve some real art supplies, such as a proper sketch pad and pencils. He’d been obsessed with them, taken them everywhere. He hadn’t told them when his school bullies had stolen his sketchpad from him and snapped all his pencils.

Steve had liked Andy. His mom’s only dated a couple of people in his life — Steve had never met his dad — and Andy had definitely been Steve’s favorite. He’d dated Steve’s mom back when Steve was eight, and they’d stuck together for five years. Steve had presumed they’d get married, but it had fallen through when Andy concluded he would always want kids of his own. It had been a mutual breakup, and Andy still sent Steve cards on his birthday. No one’s made his mom as happy since. She seems happy enough by herself now though. At least Steve hopes she is.

“An arts and crafts kit could be fun,” Bucky muses.

“Exactly! And it’s something she’ll get a lot of use out of.”

“If she likes it.”

“Of course she’ll like it.”

Bucky nods and sets off through the aisles, maneuvering around frantic parents in search of their kid’s perfect present. Steve has no complaints about leaving the dolls behind, though he’s pretty sure they watch him leave.

He’ll definitely be seeing them in his nightmares.

“Pretty sure most of these are on Barton’s level of maturity,” Bucky says, waving a toy in Steve’s face before getting distracted by a deformed Peppa Pig. Steve thinks most of these toys are Bucky’s level of maturity too. “Who the fuck designed this?” Bucky pokes the pig and jumps back when it starts singing.

Steve doesn’t care who designed it, but they ought to be locked up for child endangerment.

Bucky continues to hum the Peppa Pig theme tune under his breath as they wander around the shop before finally reaching the arts and craft kits. Steve’ll admit that the kits are on _his_ level of maturity.

“These pencils cost more than the ones I use.” He sighs and puts the watercolor pencils down gently. “What kinda kid needs pencils that cost a hundred and fifty dollars?”

“A prodigy.”

“A rich prodigy,” Steve grumbles. He tries not to resent a child’s happiness this Christmas just because his own family has always struggled for money, but seeing as it’s capitalism’s fault, he’s still bitter.

“Have you heard of slime?” Bucky asks.

Steve walks over to him. “Slime?”

“Yeah, slime.”

“I’ve heard of slime in my life yeah. Didn’t there used to be an awards show that dropped slime on people’s heads?”

“Oh yeah! Kid’s Choice Awards!” Bucky wrinkles his nose. “That was a weird show.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“Anyway—” Bucky shoves a box into Steve’s hands “—this is a different slime.”

Steve inspects the box in his hand. “Cra-Z-Slime Super Slime Studio,” he recites slowly. “Do I want to ask?”

“Look, at Thanksgiving Mary was talking loads about her friend Daisy and her slime kit, and I had no idea what she was talking about, but it was clearly important to her, and so I’m going to get her the world’s best slime kit!”

“Slime kit.”

“Don’t mock it.” Bucky grabs another box off the shelf. “Look at all the glitter and colors! I’m gonna make a rainbow flag slime.”

“You better make the bi flag too when you help her with it.”

“Obviously.” Bucky pulls a face. “Who do you think I am?”

Steve grins. “A walking stereotype?”

Bucky tugs on the collar of Steve’s denim jacket where he’s pinned a plethora of bi pride badges. “Takes one to know one.”

Steve bats Bucky’s hand away and laughs. He can hardly argue with that. “You’re just jealous.”

“Of your vintage badge collection?” Bucky raises his eyebrows.

Steve nods. “Yep.”

“Yeah, to be fair they’re pretty cool.” Bucky runs his fingers across one of the badges, it’s white with _bi-certain, not confused or curious_ written in pink, blue and purple. Steve knows Bucky gets a lot of shit for his sexuality with people refusing to believe he’s into guys as well, so having pride in himself is important to him. Steve’s got the opposite problem: people don’t accept he’s into girls.

It’s a hard life for a bisexual.

Bucky ruffles Steve’s hair, and Steve glares at him. Patronizing dick. “Do you want my help or not?”

“Don’t need it,” Bucky says. “I’m getting Mary a slime kit — the world’s best one, with all the glitter and colors and—” He inspects the box. “—and all the strange figurines she could want.”

“What do figurines have to do with slime?”

“I don’t know, but there’s a mermaid, and she loves mermaids, so,” Bucky shrugs, “just extra bonus points.”

They’re heading over to the check-out to pay for Bucky’s perfect slime kit when Steve feels his phone buzzing in his pocket. “I’ll be outside,” he tells Bucky, because it’s his mom calling on her break at the hospital, and it might be important. Steve wishes his mom would learn to text more, but he doesn’t mind so much when she’s calling to inform him she won’t be home until gone midnight. At least then he gets to hear her voice briefly.

It’s cold outside, and Steve regrets wearing a denim jacket instead of something warmer… and forgetting his hat and scarf. He buries his nose into his jacket and answers the phone. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Sarah sounds dead on her feet, and Steve makes a note to have dinner ready for her when she gets home.

“Something wrong?”

“No… it’s just…” she sighs. “I wanted to tell you when I got home, but Alfred quit yesterday, meaning they’ve had to redo all the schedules, and so they’ve overridden our initial Christmas time requests.”

“Oh.” Steve’s mom had applied for day shifts during the holidays so they’d be able to spend as much time together as possible with Steve also working days at the retail job he’d picked up at the mall.

“So I won’t be home until you’re asleep tonight, sweetie.”

“That’s okay.” Steve tugs his sleeve over his exposed hand. “Can’t be helped.”

“I know it’s just…”

“Mom?”

“They’ve redone my Christmas shift. I was supposed to be off this year, but I’m now going in at six pm on Christmas Eve, and getting off twelve hours later.”

Steve bites down on his lip to stop himself speaking. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing — it’s certainly not his mom’s fault. It’s just they hadn’t had Christmas together last year as she’d been called in on Christmas day too, and Steve had been really looking forward to it.

They always do Christmas day in their pyjamas, just the two of them, as they don’t have any other family. It’s lonely sometimes, but they have each other. Their tradition is to go to Midnight Mass — Steve’s only real remnant of the Catholic faith his mom raised him with — and then they sleep in the morning and open presents in their living room, before starting on their small and rather pitiful dinner. It’s fun though; they sing and smile. However, it’s lonely when Steve has to spend it by himself. He really hates that.

And if his mom’s working all night, she’ll be sleeping for most of the day and, again, Steve doesn’t begrudge this… It just sucks. Really sucks.

“Hope you don’t mind overcooked turkey and underdone potatoes if I’m left in charge.” Steve’s joke falls flat.

“Stevie,” his mom murmurs.

Steve’s shoulders sag. He jumps slightly at the feel of a hand on his arm and glances up to see Bucky, brows creased with concern.

“It’s fine,” Steve promises. “I mean going to mass once a year is hardly going to save my soul, and we’ll have fun, just do Christmas night instead of day.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You know I’d change it if I could.”

“I know, Mom,” Steve says. “We’ll figure it out.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, just pulls Steve into his arms so Steve’s pressed against his chest. Bucky’s arms are strong and he’s warm, and Steve would like to stay there for as long as possible, because right now life really sucks. It could be worse, and he ought to be grateful for all he has, but it sucks.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” his mom says. Her break’s probably nearly up, and she must eat too.

“I’m opening the store tomorrow, but tomorrow evening?”

“I’m off tomorrow, so that sounds good.”

At least Steve’ll get one night with his mom.

“I love you,” she says.

“Love you too.” His mom hangs up, and Steve enjoys a few more moments of being held in Bucky’s arms before extracting himself. Bucky raises his brows in question. “Mom’s working Christmas Eve, so Midnight Mass and Christmas Day are kind of off the table.”

“Stevie.” Bucky reaches for Steve again, but Steve sidesteps it. He doesn’t want Bucky’s pity. “You’re freezing,” Bucky says, changing the subject.

“What you gonna do? Hide me under your sweater?”

Steve wouldn’t put it past Bucky to try it to ensure Steve didn’t catch a cold, but there’s no way Steve is letting it happen. He has enough thoughts about Bucky’s abs without needing to be pressed up against them.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Punk.” He pulls his scarf off, and wraps it around Steve’s neck, eyes daring him to challenge him. Steve rolls his eyes right back but lets him get away with it. Bucky’s scarf smells nice.

“I could come to mass with you,” Bucky says, tucking the ends of the scarf into Steve’s jacket. He smiles at the sight, probably proud he’s prevented Steve catching a cold.

“You’re not religious.”

“And you’re so religious?”

“Shut up.” Steve laughs. “I’m baptized, and I grew up going.” Steve isn’t _not_ religious as such, and he believes there’s a greater being out there, but he also struggles with the cruelty inflicted on so many in the world. And he likes faith and the hope it brings, the way his mom uses her faith to bring good to people… however, he doesn’t like the way followers of organized religions believe they’re better than others for their faith… or the way they’d consider Steve lesser because he could love a man. It’s all complicated.

“I know a Christmas carol or two,” Bucky says. “Besides, I’m not going to let you go alone.”

“I can go to church by myself.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to.” Bucky reaches into his backpack and hands Steve a pair of gloves. Steve reckons Bucky was a brilliant Boy Scout as a kid — or just used to dealing with him by this point. “I’m not saying you have to bring me, and hell, maybe you already have people you’d rather go with… but if you don’t want to go alone then—” He smiles and Steve’s heart jumps. “—then I’m more than happy to come with you.”

Steve slides on the gloves and flexes his fingers, letting the warmth seep into them. “Thanks, Buck.” He doesn’t need to add _for everything_ because Bucky already knows.

* * *

Steve’s curled up in front of the TV with his sketchpad and a plate of chicken nuggets when Bucky texts him.

_Bucket Barnes: So_

_Bucket Barnes: I’ve had an idea_

_Me: Oh dear_

_Bucket Barnes: 1. Rude_

_Bucket Barnes: 2. It’s a good one_

The last time Bucky had told Steve about a good idea, they’d ended up fake dating and nearly ruined their friendship by accidentally hooking up. He refrains from pointing that out.

_Me: Fine, tell me_

_Bucket Barnes: Well_

_Bucket Barnes: You said your mom was going to be working Christmas Eve and so I will be accompanying you to Midnight Mass_

_Me: My hero <3_

_Bucket Barnes: ik ik_

_Bucket Barnes: Anyway, I hate the idea of you guys not getting a proper dinner cause you’ve been left in charge and you’re able to actually burn pasta_

_Me: ONE TIME !!!!!!_

_Bucket Barnes: One time too many_

_Bucket Barnes: ANYWAY how would you feel about staying round mine after Midnight Mass and then your mom can come round ours after her shift to sleep_

_Bucket Barnes: that’s how you get a full day of Christmas festivities and your mom doesn’t have to worry about doing anything or dying of food poisoning cause you’ve tried to cook for her_

Steve stares at his phone as Bucky’s texts keep flooding in.

_Bucket Barnes: And I’m dealing with your counter arguments now_

_Bucket Barnes: First of all, my mom and dad have already approved your presence here so this isn’t me jumping the gun_

_Bucket Barnes: Secondly, my folks literally adore you and I’m pretty sure my mom would rather have you here than me at this point_

_Bucket Barnes: Thirdly, you won’t be putting us out because we already have every Barnes / Hubbard under the sun coming and if we’ve got to have weird Aunt Helen who talks to trees then we can sure as well have you guys_

Steve’s fingers hover under the keys because he wants more than anything to say yes. Bucky’s family feels like Steve’s at this point, but this is such a big thing to ask of them… He wants to spend this Christmas with friends, he wants for his mom to be able to wake up and not have to worry, have a few drinks and laugh with people of her own age.

_Me: You’ve an aunt who talks to trees_

_Bucket Barnes: Steve._

Bucky knows he’s trying to avoid answering the proposal.

_Bucket Barnes: Just tell me you’ll think about it_

This may be one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever done for him, for him and his mom. He can’t even imagine a Christmas like the ones Bucky has… he and his mom have been on their own so long. He’d like to find out though.

It would be Christmas with his favorite people. Bucky’s parents are amazing, Becca’s hilarious, and Steve loves Bucky obviously — he’s his best friend.

_Me: You’re insane you know that_

_Bucket Barnes: Just tell me you’ll speak to your mom about it_

_Bucket Barnes: Please_

_Me: Okay, I’ll ask my mom_

_Bucket Barnes: Good_

_Bucket Barnes: I want you there to see Becca’s face when Mary declares me her official favorite_

_Me: You’re such an inspiration !! All that selfless giving_

_Bucket Barnes: I’m the gift that keeps on giving baby_

Steve changes the subject to something he saw on Twitter and they keep texting back and forth throughout the evening. Steve doesn’t even bother to pull up a reference picture when he idly sketches out Bucky’s smile, it comes to him naturally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got super long so I'll be posting the second part in the next couple of days but I hope you enjoyed <3 writing it certainly put me in the Christmas Spirit !!
> 
> Kudos and comments are the best things since sliced bread and i love replying to all of them !!
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@gracie137blogs](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com) if you want to talk about the fic or anything !!! 
> 
> If you enjoyed please do promote the fic on tumblr by reblogging this [post](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com/post/180660689685/fic-karmas-a-fake-orgasm)


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve starts to question his feelings for Bucky, and Christmas festivities and wacky relatives occur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we are, this I think is my fave chapter so far regarding their feelings for each other and just writing it put me in the most Christmassy mood possible. 
> 
> This chapter is for everyone who has left kudos, comments and subscribed to the fic -- hell its for anyone thats read and enjoyed the fic -- Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, my lovelies <3

The first notes of the organ greet Steve and Bucky as they stand in the queue for Midnight Mass, and Steve smiles at the sound. He loves the atmosphere of his mom’s church. It’s one of the more liberal Catholic churches, and Steve knows the crowd well enough. His mom is pretty involved in the community — she helped with the charity groups a lot when he was younger. He’s still glad Bucky’s here though, keeping him company. Besides, it’s nice to share such an intimate tradition with Bucky.

They ate dinner at the Barnes’ and enjoyed a couple of glasses of mulled wine before Bucky’s parents presented them all with presents. Steve tried to give his back, but they had rebuked him until he finally caved and opened his box to find a warm pair of tartan pyjama bottoms.

Everyone got a pair and, after they’d put them on, they migrated over to the couch to watch _A White Christmas_ , while Bucky’s mom fussed about ensuring everything was in order for the next day — until George made her sit down while he took over. It was nice to witness another family’s Christmas tradition even if it sent a pang of longing through Steve for his own mom. He hopes she has a good night at work — she deserves that at least.

Steve didn’t feel like a complete outsider either, seeing as Becca’s boyfriend Dylan was there for the first time, too.

Bucky’s parents headed to bed when the film ended, but Bucky and Steve joined Becca and Dylan for half of another Christmas film before heading up to get dressed for mass. Bucky, because he’s a doting mother hen, shoved Steve into an excessive amount of clothes before they headed out, with Dylan telling them to have a nice time and Becca warning Bucky not to burst into flames as he stepped into the church.

“What would you do if I did burst into flames?” Bucky whispers in Steve’s ear.

Steve, who’s taken his hat off by this point, shivers at the warmth Bucky’s breath offers. “Pray for you.”

“Wow, you’re so considerate.”

“Anything for a fellow sinner.”

Bucky laughs, nudging Steve with his shoulder. Steve nudges him back, before greeting Ms. Mirriam who always runs the church bake sales and coos at just how grown up he’s become. Every time.

“And who is this handsome young man you’ve brought with you.” Ms. Mirriam winks at him.

“Bucky Barnes, ma’am,” Bucky says, holding his hand out for her. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, and he’s charming!” Steve’s pretty sure Ms. Mirriam’s cheeks aren’t just red from the cold.

“The whole package,” Steve drawls. Bucky grins at him.

“The ladies will be so glad to hear that you’ve found yourself a nice man. I can’t believe Sarah’s been holding out on us.” She squeezes Steve’s cheek before hurrying off, and Steve’s left staring after her.

Bucky laughs. “That was an ego boost.”

“Shut up.” Steve shoves his hands his pockets, his stomach swirling at the thought of Bucky being thought of as his boyfriend. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but it’s the first time it’s happened since they started fake dating back at Marvel. It’s the first time since the _Couch Incident._

“Don’t speak to your nice young man like that, Stevie,” Bucky says. Steve rolls his eyes and pushes away the weird feelings. “And what else was it? Oh, yeah! Handsome and charming.”

“She forgot arrogant and insufferable,” Steve mutters as they make their way into the church. He leads them over to the row he and his mom always sit in.

“Only for you.” Bucky’s hand rests at the small of Steve’s back as he follows him, and Steve tries not to think about how he can feel it through his coat, sweater, and tee. They pause, saying hello to a few more people that Steve’s gotten to know over the years, and Ms. Mirriam isn’t the only old lady who gives Bucky a far too-knowing look. Steve will have to set his mom on damage control before these women try to pester him about when he’s getting married.

“Homosexual marriage is now acceptable,” Judy, who runs the church yard sale tells Steve every year, as if Steve isn‘t aware. He appreciates the sentiment, but he’s twenty-one, single, and thinks marriage is rather aggressively heterosexual. He smiles when she says it anyway.

They take their places, shoulders and legs pressed together as the notes of the organ surround them.

The candles shine bright, flickering and coating the room in a golden glow. It’s a small church, an intimate service with a congregation who have, mostly, known each other for years. There’s two trees at the front decorated with small white lights and with a mound of red presents underneath that volunteers had collected for children in need.

People are quieting down, and Steve knows the choir is about to start, and he can’t help smile. He can’t find the words to tell Bucky how much it means to him he came tonight, helped Steve keep this smidge of tradition alive. He reaches over and squeezes Bucky’s hand and hopes he gets his message across. The smile Bucky gives him in return tells him he does.

The choir starts, and they face the front, but it’s not until halfway through the service that Steve realizes he’s still holding Bucky’s hand. He keeps pretending to be oblivious because he doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t let go until he gets up for Communion, and when he sits back down he tries not to think about how much he misses Bucky’s warm hand. He doesn’t reach out and take it though. He can’t pretend it’s an accident twice.

* * *

Bucky presses a finger to his lips as they sneak back into the Barnes house — everyone’s asleep now. Steve’s mom’ll be letting herself in at seven and heading upstairs to the spare room to sleep until the afternoon, when she’ll come down and be able to enjoy herself with no stress.

Bucky and Steve make their way upstairs to Bucky’s attic room. Steve loves Bucky’s room with its tired blue walls and lingering presence of the Bucky Steve had missed getting to know. There’s a collection of comics in the corner and various sports medals hanging from his bookshelf, which is stuffed full of books about sci-fi adventures and space.

There are pictures of Bucky and his old school friends tacked up on the wall, all of them grinning goofily in their football gear. Bucky looks like every high school cliché. The pictures show him hanging out with the cheerleaders, being crowned Prom King while also winning the science fair and partaking in Mathletes. He’d been the school’s golden boy, the exact opposite of everything Steve had been.

“You can take the bed.”

Steve groans. “Are we really having this argument again?” The set of Bucky’s jaw tells him they are. “That is a perfectly good mattress, Bucky. I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am ‘cause I’m already—”

“If you say intruding, Imma ruin Christmas for everyone by killing you.”

Steve snaps his mouth shut. It would be easier to argue with Bucky if they didn’t know each other so well. Steve can hardly make a point without Bucky shutting it down before he speaks.

“You have a bad back—”

“And you have a bad face.” Steve’ll admit it’s not his best comeback. He strips off his jeans and top and drops onto the mattress, pulling the blanket over himself and glaring up at Bucky.

Bucky watches him with indignation. “I will pick you up.”

“I will punch you in the balls.”

Bucky huffs and pulls off his own clothes. “You’re the most stubborn asshole I’ve ever met.”

“Merry Christmas,” Steve mutters, staring at the ceiling so he doesn’t get distracted by Bucky undressing. It wouldn’t be fair if Bucky were to ask anything of Steve while half-naked — Steve’d be emotionally compromised.

Bucky flicks the light off, and Steve tries to convince himself he hadn’t snuck a glance at Bucky’s ass. Honestly, does Bucky wear briefs that are painted on to him?

Steve tugs the blanket around himself and tries to get comfortable. It is a perfectly decent mattress, and the blanket’s very soft… It’s just that he can’t stop thinking about Bucky lying above him. Bucky on a very nice double bed, where there is more than enough room for Steve to lie, and if they hadn’t completely violated all spatial boundaries a few weeks back perhaps he’d be able to. However, he’s pretty sure that if they hadn’t broken those boundaries, he wouldn’t be lying here wishing he was pressed against Bucky with all of Bucky’s warm—

“Stevie,” Bucky murmurs. Steve turns to face him. He can see the furrow between Bucky’s brows and he wants to smooth it away. “Will you just get up here and join me?”

Steve has many reasons for not joining Bucky. He ignores them all.

Bucky moves over for Steve to slide under the covers and they curl up facing each other, knees knocking and heads bowed. There’s light from the city outside filtering through Bucky’s curtains and the old sticky stars stuck to his ceilings glow faintly. Bucky looks beautiful.

“It’s weird, you know,” he says before he can stop himself.

“What’s weird?” Bucky asks.

“Going back to being like this,” Steve says. “Getting used to not touching or kissing you.” Steve’s not sure why he’s saying this. Perhaps the heady smell of the church incense had gone to his head, or maybe it had been the wine earlier, or maybe it’s the dark and the irresistible curve of Bucky’s mouth that makes him feel like it’s okay to say things like this.

Bucky swallows. “You like kissing me then, Stevie?”

“I’ve kissed worse people.”

Bucky brushes Steve’s hair out of his eyes. “Yeah?”

Steve nods. “It’s just… after nearly two months, it’s just habit, you know. My brain keeps telling me to kiss you.”

“Brains are pesky like that.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. When Bucky doesn’t respond he adds, “It’s annoying.”

Best friends don’t go around wanting to kiss each other. He doesn’t understand what he feels for Bucky anymore, but he has a horrible feeling it’s not strictly platonic.

“What are you thinking?” Bucky asks.

Steve wishes he knew.

“That we should go to sleep,” Steve says. “We don’t want to be too tired tomorrow.” He rolls over, tugging the covers close under his chin.

He’s sure tomorrow they’ll pretend this conversation never happened, the same way Bucky had tried to pretend the handjobs had never happened. Steve supposes he should be grateful that Bucky’s not pressuring him to pull his head out off his ass and stop acting like an idiot about the whole thing. Steve wishes he could be as unaffected as Bucky.

“Merry Christmas, Buck.”

There’s a pause before Bucky replies with a soft: “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

* * *

“Wake up, boys! There’s bacon on the table, and mom’s in full-on Marine mode, and if you think you’re getting out of helping, you are sorely mistaken.”

Steve presses his face into the pillow and groans.

“Rise and shine!” Steve’s left flailing when the covers are yanked off him and, through one eye he squints over at where Becca’s standing, looking highly amused.

“Becca. I will. Kill. You.” Bucky drags out every syllable. Steve curls tighter into a ball and tries not to think about how attractive Bucky’s gruff sleepy voice is.

“And Mom’ll kill you if you’re not downstairs in two minutes.” Becca drops the cover on the floor. She smiles at Steve. “Merry Christmas, Steve.” She reaches out and yanks on Bucky’s ankle. “Get up and seize the day, Buck Buck.”

“Fuck off, Beck Beck.”

“Where is your Christmas spirit?”

“Someone just threw it on the floor.”

Becca tuts. “Tying your Christmas joy to something as material as a comforter is sad.”

“I will throw your present in the trash.”

“Mom’ll throw your presents in the trash if you’re not careful.” Becca glances at her phone. “You have one and a half minutes. Don’t be late.”

She gives Steve another smile before prancing out of the room, laughing when the pillow Bucky throws at her misses.

Bucky groans. “I wish I’d been an only child.”

Steve laughs, sitting up slowly and rubbing his eyes. He wants to go help Bucky’s mom, Winifred, out anyway. He’d want to even if she hadn’t asked for it, though he’ll admit he’s had more enjoyable wake-up calls on Christmas Day.

“No, you don’t,” he says. Bucky grumbles a load of nonsense in reply because they both know he doesn’t wish he was an only child at all. For all that Becca and Bucky squabble, they adore each other. Steve thinks so, anyway… he doesn’t totally understand siblings.

They eat their breakfast and Winifred sets them to work, seeing as they won’t be opening any presents until everyone else arrives (and Steve’s mom wakes up).

Winifred gives Steve and Becca the role of decorating the dining room and setting the table because they have artistic sense and can’t cook. Bucky’s helping his mom out in the kitchen, leaving Dylan and Bucky’s dad, George, to make sure everything is spotless. It’s more work than Steve’s used to on Christmas Day, since he and his mom have no one to impress, but that doesn’t mean it’s not fun.

His mom comes downstairs just after twelve, revealing she’d been able to get off her shift early and was already running on six hours sleep. Winifred tried to make her go back to sleep, but Steve got his stubborn streak from his mom, and Sarah insisted that she’d slept enough to help. Steve believes her, as she’s done more strenuous things on less sleep before.

It’s one o’clock when the first of the guests arrive, and Bucky and Becca nearly injure each other in their desperation to greet Mary first.

“Is it time to break open the alcohol?” Winifred despairs.

“A record.” George kisses the side of her head.

“No, the worst year was definitely the one when…” Steve doesn’t get to hear Bucky and Becca’s worst antics because Bucky’s dragging him over to meet Mary.

Mary’s the daughter of George’s younger sister, Alice, and Steve can see the Barnes resemblance instantly. It’s all in the mischievous curl of her mouth.

“Mare, this is my friend Steve,” Bucky introduces.

“Hi, Mary,” Steve says. Bucky grins at him in encouragement, and Steve thinks Bucky really should have given him a manual on how to talk to kids. “I like your bow,” he adds because it seems appropriate.

Mary reaches up, fingers grazing the edge of the red bow in her hair. “Thank you.”

“Very Christmassy.” It’s trimmed with silver and gold, and Steve feels like he sounds like he’s only just learned to talk, but Mary gives him a wide smile so he assumes she has accepted him. He was right, she’s certainly got a Barnes smile.

“Is that the sound of my little Christmas elf?” George calls.

Mary laughs loudly, running down the hall and throwing herself into his arms with a shriek of _Uncle George!_

Bucky introduces Steve to Alice and her husband with whom Steve manages to talk like an adult. From then on it’s a constant stream of Barneses and Hubbards through the door filling the house with laughter and Christmas cheer. Bucky doesn’t leave Steve’s side and shepherds him around, introducing him to everyone, and spluttering when his grandma congratulates him on finally settling down because she was worrying.

Steve’s glad he’s not the only one humiliated by old ladies this Christmas.

“When can we open presents?!” Mary groans, hitting Bucky with her teddy bear.

Bucky catches the bear and hits her playfully over the head with it in retaliation, causing her to giggle. “We’re just waiting for your Great Aunt Helen.”

“Great Aunt Helen smells,” Mary mumbles.

“Mary!” Alice admonishes.

Steve bites down on his lip to try not to laugh and leans close to Bucky. “Was Aunt Helen the—”

“The one who talks to trees?” Bucky asks. Steve nods. “Yep.”

“Like does she actually talk to trees or?”

Bucky’s never been one to shy away from exaggerating.

“You’ll see what I mean,” Bucky says vaguely before Mary demands his attention again.

Steve likes to consider himself a non-judgemental person regarding letting people express themselves however they want as long as they’re not hurting anyone... but when Bucky’s Aunt Helen walks through the door, he’s forced to accept that Bucky’s right. She looks like she talks to trees. In fact, Steve’s pretty sure he catches her greeting the Christmas tree.

To each their own, Steve firmly believes, but still gives her a wide berth. He’s a born and bred New Yorker, and nature scares him.

Once Aunt Helen’s greeted everyone (including the tree — Bucky confirms that Steve’s eyes weren’t deceiving him), Mary finally gets her wish and they open the presents. The Barnes family tradition is to go one by one starting with the youngest — though Steve’s pretty sure it’s because Mary would try to kill them all if they withheld her presents from her any longer, and no one wants a six-year-old felon in the family.

Becca wins a coin toss and sends Bucky a smug smile when Mary rips open the present to find a Barbie Mermaid. She gasps and holds it up proudly for everyone to see. “Mom, look!”

“She’s got blue hair!” Alice coos, dropping to her knees and inspecting the mermaid with Becca and Mary.

“Worried?” Steve whispers to Bucky.

Bucky lounges back and lifts his present up for Mary to see. “I’m not worried.”

Mary dives toward him, settling in his lap and tearing the paper off. “Bucky!” She shrieks. “This is way better than Daisy’s kit!”

“Yep.” Bucky rests his chin on her shoulder. “Look at all the glitter.”

“Glitter!”

“Yep. And there’s a mixer and look here, it shows you how to make mermaid slime.”

“Mermaid slime!”

“Yeah, and unicorn slime.”

“I want to make unicorn slime!”

“We’ll make unicorn slime later,” Bucky promises. Steve doesn’t miss the triumphant smile Bucky shoots Becca, who rolls her eyes. He also doesn’t miss Alice and her husband’s pained expressions at Mary’s _glitter_ excitement. Steve can relate. Tony had a glitter party at the beginning of the semester, and they’re never getting rid of that shit.

“I want to make unicorn slime _now_ though!”

“Don’t you want to watch everyone else open their presents?” Bucky asks, tugging on a strand of her hair. She pulls a face at him. “Steve’s next, and he’s got some pretty good things lined up.”

“Like what?” Mary demands.

“Yeah, Buck. What’ve I got?” Steve grins.

Bucky grins back. “You’ll have to open them and find out.”

Steve’s not expecting to get much under the tree aside from a couple of things from his mom and the present he’d brought over that Tony and Clint had given him, so when Bucky and Mary lay his presents out in front of him, he’s touched to see that he got one from Bucky’s family too.

“You didn’t have to,” Steve tries.

“Shut up,” Bucky says, clipping him around the ear, knocking his glasses. Steve scowls and sets them right. He reaches for Bucky’s present first because it’s the biggest, but Bucky pulls it out of reach. “Mine last.”

“Fine,” Steve huffs and picks up his mom’s first present.

He’s beyond thrilled with what his mom got him, and he knows she’s spent more than she should have on the coat, but it’s thick enough to keep him warm and will hopefully last a few years. She also got him a painting techniques book he’s been wanting for ages and some new underwear.

“Thanks, Mom.” He buries his face into the crook of her neck and she squeezes him. “You shouldn’t have.” He means that. He doesn’t want his mom spending money they don’t have on him.

“You deserve nice things, Steve,” she whispers, pulling back and kissing his cheek. “Now open the rest of your presents.”

Steve moves toward Bucky’s present but Bucky pulls it away from him again. He sighs and opens his present from Winifred, George, and Becca and tries not to gush too much.

Tony and Clint’s present is wrapped in pooping Rudolph paper, and Steve pauses when he opens the box to see a set of charcoals and paper. He pulls the charcoals out, smiling at the fact Tony and Clint remembered that he wanted them. He’d said earlier in the term he missed drawing with charcoals, and they’d remembered. He will have to text them to say thank you.

He promptly changes his mind when he moves the rest of the tissue paper aside to see a ball gag staring back at him. Its black leather with a large red ball that looks like it would hurt to keep in your mouth. Steve likes the noises Bucky makes… He shoves the charcoals back into the box and passes it to Bucky.

At that, Bucky raises his eyebrows, pausing when he catches on. “Oh,” he says, mouth twitching. “That’s nice of them.”

“Isn’t it,” Steve says.

Bucky fishes a small card out of the box and shows it to Steve.

 _For Steve and Steve’s Significant Annoyance_.

Steve laughs. The present is so perfectly Clint and Tony that he’s _nearly_ willing to forgive them for making him almost show Bucky’s family a ball gag. _Nearly_.

“Do I get to open yours now?”

Bucky runs his hands across the box. “I guess so…” He reaches behind him and pulls out a slim present. “Open this one first.”

“You got me two?!”

Bucky shrugs, pushing the presents in front of Steve. “They go together.” He chews on his lip. “Well, go on, open it!”

“Open it!” Mary echos.

Steve opens the smaller one first, Bucky’s gaze burning into him. “This is amazing!” He grins, turning the _Best of David Bowie_ vinyl album over in his hands, inspecting it. “Fu— Fudge, Buck!” He hears Bucky’s family laugh at his near lapse, and Mary gives him a look that tells him she knew exactly what he was about to say. “This is amazing, like honestly, but…” He trails off staring at the larger present. “You didn’t.”

“Open it.” Bucky grins.

Steve tears the paper off the present, gasping at the sight of the record player. “You shouldn’t have!” He knows there’s no way Bucky could afford something like this, and so there’s no way Steve can accept it. “I—”

“I found it at a charity Shop and took it home to fix it up,” Bucky says. “Dad’s friend is a mechanic, and he helped me a bit, so no excessive spending occurred.”

“Oh.” Steve strokes his hand across the record player. “I’ve always wanted one of these.”

“I know.” Bucky gives Steve a small shrug and a soft smile. Steve can’t stop staring at his mouth. “You and your old man music taste.”

“Thank you.” Steve pulls Bucky into a hug because it’s that or he’ll do something stupid like kiss him in front of his whole family. “Thank you.”

Bucky squeezes him. “I’m just glad you like it.”

“I love it.”

They pull back, smiling at each other until Becca coughs loudly. “Some of us want to open our presents too, Buck Buck.”

“Yeah!” Mary demands, throwing herself between Steve and Bucky. “Open your presents, Bucky!”

Bucky grabs Mary into his arms, laughing as she squeals, and then picks up Steve’s present, which now seems extremely subpar.

“It’s—” Steve starts but Bucky just hushes him, tearing the paper off and laughing when he opens it to find the cookbook Steve’s bought him. “It’s dumb.”

“I love it,” Bucky declares, flipping it open and stopping at the first page.

Steve holds his album to his chest. “It’s dumb, I know, but that night was really fun so I…”

“I love it.” Bucky’s voice is soft this time as he traces his fingers across the sketch Steve had done on the back of the cover page. It’s Bucky with his bright eyes and wide grin, flour dusted across his cheeks and in his hair.

“There’s a few more doodles in there as well,” Steve says. He’d done a few comic sketches of him and Bucky commenting on the recipes and one or two of Tony. He’s worried now that it’s too intimate, a too-clear connection to the next morning and the fact Steve can’t stop thinking about it.

“Oh, that’s gorgeous!” Winifred says, peering over at the sketch of Bucky. “I’ll have to commission you sometime.”

“Nah, he’s made Bucky too good looking,” Becca says, but she gives Steve a warm smile.

“Open the rest of your presents!” Mary says, bored with Steve’s cookbook.

Bucky places it down beside him and opens Steve’s other box, rolling his eyes. Steve shrugs innocently, since it’s not like the second present cost him anything.

Bucky pulls out the tacky toy telescope and raises his eyebrows until he finds the note under the toy.

“Steve,” is all Bucky whispers.

“What does it say?” Becca asks.

“It’s the date of the next meteor shower,” Bucky says, tucking the note in his pocket before anyone else can read it. Steve’s glad, because it’s just for Bucky’s eyes. It’s the date of the meteor shower and a doodle of the two of them sitting on Bucky’s car watching it, with an offer to go see it together.

“You’re a space nerd,” Steve says as if that explains it all.

“And you’re an ass.”

“Language,” Becca tuts.

“Language!” Mary says, hitting Bucky. Bucky stops staring at Steve, which is good because Steve’s heart is about to give out — it’d never been the strongest anyway. He doesn’t understand what’s happening inside him, but he knows he wants Bucky to look at him like that again, soft and warm and like Steve’s the most important person in the room.

The rest of the present opening goes smoothly, and Steve thrills Winifred with the family portraits he did for them as a thank you.

It’s admittedly one of the best Christmases Steve’s ever had, and he ends up lying on the couch, head on Bucky’s shoulder as they try to guess Aunt Helen’s charades round.

No one’s surprised when the answer is _The Tree of Life_.

Steve looks over at where his mom is talking to Dylan and Alice and smiles at how relaxed she is.

“I’m glad you invited us,” he murmurs.

Bucky chuckles. “I’m glad you managed to pull your head out of your ass and come.”

“There’s a joke in there somewhere.”

“And the student becomes the master.”

Steve pinches Bucky before saying, “I’m glad too… that I came.”

“We should do this again… you know, if you and your mom wanted.”

Before Steve can answer, Bucky’s being shouted up to perform charades, which he does gleefully.

Steve would like nothing more than to do this with Bucky again. He’s starting to realize there’s nothing he wouldn’t like to do with Bucky. It’s a realization that scares him, because their friendship has always been sturdy and reliable. He’s never had to question it… and now he’s questioning everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell in love with Aunt Helen, Mary and Mrs. Mirriam while writing this and just had a blast. As I said before I wish everyone a happy holidays!! And I hope you enjoyed this chapter of the fic!! I have written the first Chapter of the Bucky POV fic so subscribe to me as an author to keep an out for that !!
> 
> Kudos and comments are the best things since sliced bread (and make fantastic Christmas presents)
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@gracie137blogs](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com) if you want to talk about the fic or anything !!!
> 
> If you enjoyed please do promote the fic on tumblr by reblogging this [post](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com/post/180660689685/fic-karmas-a-fake-orgasm)


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New Year brings some realisations for Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeee I'm sorry for the delay but the holidays have been super hectic !! also I'm drowning in University deadlines but I can now confirm the rest of the fic is written and I'll have the next two (yes there's an extra chapter) chapters up next week !! i hope everyone has had a great holidays and i wish you all a great 2019 !!!
> 
> Well, here's the chapter and i hope its worth the wait !!!

After Christmas Steve doesn’t get much of a chance to see Bucky before New Year. He’s spending as much time as possible with his mom, and post-Christmas sales mean work is pretty frantic.

The break from Bucky is probably a good thing, a chance to clear his head and remind himself that Bucky is his _friend,_ and friends do not think about kissing each other. Yet Steve thinks about kissing Bucky… a lot.

The break from Bucky might technically be a good thing, but it still sucks. Steve misses Bucky when they’re not together; now more than ever. He can’t stop thinking of the way Bucky looked at him when he opened Steve’s present, and the fact Bucky rebuilt Steve a record player. It’s touching to be known so well, and Bucky’s present is possibly one of the best he’s ever received.

When they are reunited all Steve wants to do is run across the subway platform and throw himself into Bucky’s arms like he’s living a romcom. However, they’re _not_ a romcom, so he just shuffles across the platform and nearly gets taken out by a man with an oversized briefcase. By the time he’s at Bucky’s side, Bucky’s laughing at him.

Everything is normal. Except the way Bucky’s smile makes Steve light up inside. It’s not a very platonic feeling.

None of its very platonic anymore.

“Don’t laugh.” Steve rubs his bruised hip and pride. That briefcase had been _heavy_.

Bucky doesn’t stop grinning. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The journey from Brooklyn to Manhattan isn’t one that Steve makes too frequently, especially not to the Upper East Side where Tony’s penthouse is located. At this time of the year, Tony is usually at the Stark California estate as New York ‘doesn’t offer enough Vitamin D’. In Steve’s personal opinion, Tony doesn’t need anymore D in his life seeing as he’s enough of a _Dick_ as it is.

When they reach the building, they’re shown in by a weary doorman who types in Tony’s special code for the elevator and sends them up.

When they’re standing next to each other in the oversized and garish elevator Steve remembers they’re going to have to act like a couple again. The kind of couple who can’t keep their hands off each other.

He clears his throat. “Should we, urm…”

“What?” Bucky frowns.

“You know…”

Clearly Bucky doesn’t know if the look he gives him is anything.

“Spit it out.”

“Hold… hands… maybe?”

“Oh. Yeah. Good idea.”

Steve just wants an excuse to have Bucky’s hand in his and they stand there staring at each other for a moment before he reaches out and clasps it. Neither of them speak as they both stare at their intertwined hands.

"Your hand's clammy," Bucky says, laugh soft.

“So is yours.”

“Yeah, well this elevator’s weirdly warm.”

“Suppose we ought to tell Tony to regulate his temperature better.”

“Suppose we ought to…”

The conversation withers and dies but Bucky doesn’t let go of Steve’s hand. It’s too warm and overbearingly slick, but Steve doesn’t want to let go. He wonders if it’d be less sweaty if they weren’t forcing it. What it’d be like for Bucky to genuinely reach out and take his hand. Their hands fit together nicely; it’s the ultimate cliche.

With a ding the doors open, and they step into Tony’s penthouse.

“Does this place get bigger every time we see it?” Steve’s whole apartment could fit in the living room alone.

The entrance hall is filled with balloons and streamers in such a brilliantly tacky way that Steve _knows_ Tony took charge of decorating.

“Think so,” Bucky says. “Do you think he’s installed that gold bathtub yet?”

“No, but thank you for reminding me! Perhaps that can be my 2019 resolution!” Tony waltzes into view, the sound of music following him.

“If you install a gold bath I’m never speaking to you again,” Steve says.

“What if it’s just a small one?”

“The fuck is the point of a _small_ gold tub?” Bucky asks. “Go big or go home.”

“Or put the money to good use,” Steve mutters, but Tony’s too busy debating the merits of a solid gold pool to hear him. Hopefully, he’s joking. _Hopefully_.

The sound of commotion draws Pepper and Clint out into the hallway, Rhodey and Natasha following behind them. The rest of the party should arrive in the next hour.

Bucky lets go of his hand to give Natasha a hug, and Steve tries not to mourn the loss as Clint runs over to him. It was all for show anyway.

“Did you like our present?” Clint asks, leering at Steve.

Somehow he’s missed this idiot.

This is only the second year they’ve all come to Tony’s for his New Year’s party, but Steve’s already hoping it will become a tradition. Sure, Tony’s obnoxious and excessive at times, but his New Year’s events don’t seem to be like that. He fills his apartment with people he genuinely cares about, helps them get to New York if they couldn’t afford to do so otherwise, and then provides them all with drinks. Steve can’t say it isn’t fun. The food is great, and it’s brilliant being able to spend New Year’s with his friends. Then just before midnight they crowd out onto Tony’s roof garden and watch the fireworks.

After everyone is done saying hello Tony, whistles to grab their attention. “And on that note I think it’s time for the first drink of the night!”

“Tony, we’ll be drunk before anyone else arrives if we start now.” Pepper sighs.

“Okay, I only said one drink, you’re the one suggesting we get fucked up.” Tony holds his hands up innocently, then grins. “Though if that’s what you want.”

“One drink,” Pepper says, poking Tony in the chest. “No repeats of last year.”

“I personally think throwing up before the ball drops is the only way to see 2019 in. You know, one final hurrah before settling down for the New Year.”

“Think you can manage not to throw up, Barnes?” Natasha asks.

Bucky laughs. “Let’s see this New Year in Russian style.” He high fives Natasha.

Steve wants to take Bucky’s hand again, but he doesn’t want to be excessive.

It had felt so natural before the holidays, and now Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself. More than anything he wants to reach out for Bucky, but he doesn’t know how.

“How about no one throw up?” Pepper suggests.

“That’s what Russian style is,” Bucky promises. “Professor Boboshko taught us that back in first year.”

“If I’d known Russian was all about drinking, I’d have taken it,” Tony says.

“You could barely pass French,” Rhodey said.

With a wave of his hand, Tony brushes the remark off. “Not true. I happened to excel in French, especially the alcohol part. Now who wants champagne? And did you know it’s only technically champagne if it comes from the French region-place-area of Champagne.” He gives Rhodey a smug smile. “Now would someone who sucked at French know that?”

Instead of bothering with a response, Rhodey rolls his eyes. It’s often the easiest option with Tony.

Tony cracks open the first bottle of champagne and hands them all a glass, and they cheer to being reunited. They’ve only been apart for a couple of weeks, but with the chaos of the finals in the lead-up to the holiday, it feels like longer. As a lightweight through and through, Steve nurses his one glass until the party is flowing in full swing, because there’s no way he’ll make it until midnight if he tries to match the others. He doesn’t have Tony’s practice or Natasha’s tolerance, so he works at his own speed.

Sam arrives, and then it’s a stream of people both from Marvel, whom Steve knows well enough, or from Tony’s boarding school, whom Steve has only met in passing. He’s happy to sit with the people he knows and catch up about everyone’s holidays.

The champagne’s buzzing through him, making him feel light, and with Bucky’s arm over his shoulders he’s nearly weightless. He stays grounded only from remembering that everything Bucky does is for show.

“So how was your Christmas, lovebirds?” Natasha asks. She looks completely unaffected by what she’s drunk so far, but Steve knows she’s no longer sober from the way she’s pressed close to Clint, all usual disdain for PDA out of the window.

“Good, thanks,” Bucky says. “I ventured inside a church and didn’t combust, which was pretty exciting.”

Sam snorts. “ _You_ went to church?”

“My mom couldn’t make mass, so Buck came with me.” Steve wants to keep the memory private. It’s too intimate to share with the group. Bucky’s hand in his under no pretenses, just the heavy scent of incense in the air and the hope and happiness hanging on every word, sung or uttered.

“Every time I think you guys couldn’t get sweeter, you outdo yourselves,” Pepper says.

That’s a popular opinion nowadays it seems; shame it’s not true. Then again, Mrs. Miriam had thought they were dating when they weren’t… Not that that makes Steve feel any better. In fact, it makes it worse.

“Yeah, I think that, then I remember the noises they make when they fuck.” Clint shudders. “Nothing sweet about those.”

“Pot meet kettle,” Steve is inclined to remark. At least _their_ noises are fake. Clint and Natasha _are_ that loud. Bucky’s real sex noises are way better, all gasps as his breath rises and falls. Steve’s heard those noises every time he’s jerked off since that morning. He’d even tried watching porn, but the synthetic moans had reminded him of the genuine _need_ whenever Bucky had moaned for Steve, and he’d ended up turning it off unsatisfied.

He realizes he’s fantasizing about his best friend’s sex noises while at a party surrounded by all of their friends, and that’s sure to end in disaster.

Luckily the conversation’s continued without him, and no one noticed.

Clint’s speaking, “Okay, so my peak of the year—”

“If your peak of the year is anything but scoring someone light years out of your league, then you don’t deserve her,” Sam says.

Natasha winks at Sam before turning to Clint expectantly.

“Well, I was going to say my peak was the pizza place learning my delivery order off by heart, but I suppose Nat finally coming to her senses—”

“Coming to my senses?”

“Yep, and realizing I am the right guy for you.” Clint grins goofily at her, and the love in his eyes is so clear that Steve’s heart twists. He glances up at Bucky who is laughing at the exasperated expression on Natasha’s face. He wonders if he’s as obvious as Clint is when he looks at Bucky. Steve’s never been great at hiding things.

He’d gotten into a lot of trouble at school and home for being unable to hide what he was thinking.

“And we all know what James’s peak of the year is,” Natasha says, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Do we?” Bucky asks.

Steve needs another drink. Of course, pretending to be Steve’s fake boyfriend isn’t going to be the highlight of Bucky’s year. Tragically, it might be the highlight of Steve’s though, even with how wretched it’s now making him. Those couple of weeks before the holidays when it’d been as easy as breathing, or waking up beside Bucky on Christmas morning…

“Are you going to try and tell me that Steve finally realizing you’ve been into him since the day you met wasn’t the best part of your year?”

“Nat!”

“What?” Natasha laughs. “It’s true! Come on, you literally declared Steve your soulmate the first time you met him, remember Sam?”

“What?” Steve asks.

“Nat,” Bucky repeats. He pulls his arm off Steve, and Steve tries not to sink back into the couch in despair. It’s clearly not true, or Bucky wouldn’t be getting so worked up about it.

“You were trying to flirt with him, and then you learnt he was with Peggy!”

“No, he wasn’t,” Steve says firmly. Steve’s seen Bucky flirting with people. Bucky is fantastic at flirting. He’s charming and handsome, and the people he flirts with always end up utterly captivated. Steve would have _known_ if Bucky tried to flirt with him.

“Sam, back me up!”

Everyone turns to look at Sam, who takes a long sip of his drink before shrugging. “I don’t remember that.”

“See,” Bucky says firmly. “Maybe it was actually you who wanted to pull Steve that night.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow, eyes flicking between Bucky and Sam.

Steve is extremely confused as he gazes at the three of them.

“Well, who here hasn’t wanted a go at our Stevie,” Clint says, shattering the building tension. “Look at his face!”

“Exactly.” Bucky wraps his arm back around Steve, but Steve can’t lean into his touch. He’s still trying to wrap his head around what Natasha means. She’s joked about Bucky pining before, but Steve hadn’t cared then. He cares now.

These jokes are another nail in his heart.

He finishes the rest of his drink. “I think it’s time for shots.”

“Yes!” Clint jumps up, nearly tripping over his own legs. “Shots! Shots! Shots!”

“Did someone say shots?” Tony appears with Rhodey and two trays of luminous shots.

“How did you hear that?” Pepper laughs as Tony kisses her before handing out the shots.

“Specialized hearing.” Steve’s never been more happy for Tony’s _specialized hearing_ in his life as he greedily downs his shot and lets the conversation be forgotten. It’s not that he thinks Natasha is lying, but she must have misunderstood, because Steve would have _known._ If Bucky had really been as interested as his friends had joked, then surely he would have made a move during all the times Steve was single?

Bucky’s his best friend, and Steve would know if Bucky liked him like that. Especially now. He wishes it were true, but he can’t see how it could be.

“You good if I go dance with Nat?” Bucky asks, leaning in close.

“Sure. I’ve got two left feet after all.”

Bucky bites his lip. Steve wants to lean in and lick the excess vodka from him. He could do that, but he can’t bring himself to. “You know you’re my fave dance partner, Stevie.”

“I’m awful.”

“Sure, but you’re you.”

 _Don’t_ , Steve wants to beg. _Please don’t say things like that_.

He searches Bucky’s face for the answer he wants, but he can’t see it. How did he never realize how hard Bucky could be to read? He supposes he’d never had to think about it too hard before.

“Go dance.” Steve shoves Bucky gently.

Bucky stands before leaning in and kissing Steve once, just a peck, and Steve wants to grab Bucky back and kiss him properly, but he doesn’t. He just rolls his eyes when Bucky smiles at him.

When Natasha takes Bucky’s extended hand, there’s a smile on her face, but Steve knows she’s not forgotten the conversation.

It’s not until another couple of shots and songs later that Steve ends up being dragged onto the dance area by Clint and Tony, and Bucky and Natasha are nowhere to be seen. Steve doesn’t have time to dwell on that too much because Clint and Tony grab his hands and force him to jump up and down out of sync to a horrific chart song he tragically knows all the words to.

Steve nearly trips over his own feet during Mr. Brightside but Bucky catches him. Bucky grins down at him.

“Need a hand?”

“I need two new feet,” Steve says, raising his voice over the music.

Bucky shakes his head, entwining their fingers. “Nah, you just need the right dance partner.”

“And that’s you, is it?”

Bucky moves them actually in time to the music. “For now, yeah.”

 _For now_. If that’s all Steve gets Bucky for, then he’ll take it.

Except that’s not fair to either of them. They’re not being fair to anyone right now. Steve’s lying to his friends and himself, and he doesn’t want to start the new year like that.

He has to do the right thing and call this fake relationship off. The second they’re back at Marvel, he’s sitting Tony and Clint down and telling them the truth. He wants Bucky so badly, it’s hitting him all at once. Perhaps these feelings had been there for longer than he’d realized, and now they’re all coming to light and he can’t keep them hidden.

He doesn’t know what’s the best thing to do. Would it be better to confess to Bucky that he’s fallen for him and Steve understands if Bucky isn’t interested and hopes it won’t damage their friendship? Or would it be better to keep it to himself, learn to get over it, prioritize their friendship?

“You okay?” Bucky asks, slowing down.

“Yeah, I just—”

“Everyone!” Tony’s voice rings loud and clear over the speaker, and Steve winces. “It is time to head to the balcony! Two minutes till 2019!”

“Steve,” Bucky starts, but Steve cuts him off.

“Come on, let’s go get a good view.”

They join up with the rest of their friends, pressed together on Tony’s roof garden and waiting for the countdown to begin.

Even with the alcohol it’s cold in the crisp December air, and Steve can’t bring himself to resist when Bucky wraps his arms around him. It’s just for warmth.

Tony calls everyone in for the countdown from ten, and then there're fireworks in the sky, exploding above them in luminous colors as New York rings in the new year.

Hope, promise, expectations, a fresh start.

Steve doesn’t think about any of them as Bucky spins him around and smiles, a smile that makes Steve feel like he’s the most important person in the world at that very moment.

“Happy New Year, Stevie.”

“Happy New Year, Buck.”

Couples are kissing around them, and Steve almost hesitates. _Almost_. He leans up on his tiptoes and presses his lips against Bucky’s, an echo of the same chaste kiss Bucky had given him earlier. Except this time Bucky doesn’t pull away. Instead he slips an arm around Steve’s waist and dips him, deepening the kiss.

Fireworks and shouts ring in Steve’s ears but all he can focus on is the taste of Bucky’s mouth. They’re being dragged apart too soon as Tony plants a smacking kiss on Steve’s cheek, and Sam hugs Bucky.

Watching all of their friends celebrate with his lips still wet from Bucky’s kiss, Steve feels his euphoria dying. This wasn’t how it was all supposed to go.

The plan has gone so completely wrong.

Natasha jumps into Bucky’s arms, and he twirls her around.

“I need the bathroom,” Steve mumbles to whomever’s listening and pushes his way through the crowd. He needs to breathe. Figure his head out.

He’s started his year by kissing Bucky for possibly the last time. That’s not very jolly to him.

He’s storming aimlessly through Tony’s apartment when he hears:

“Steve!”

Steve slows down but doesn’t stop. His heart is twisting inside him and he can still taste the vodka from Bucky’s mouth.

“What are you doing?” Bucky’s sneakers thud against the wooden floor as he jogs to catch up.

“Thought I was going to be sick.” Because Steve’s falling harder for Bucky than he can control, or perhaps he’d already fallen for Bucky and the reality of it is just setting in. Everything is moving too fast or too slowly, and his head won’t stop spinning because he’d started 2019 out by kissing Bucky and he doesn’t know how long he has left until he doesn’t get to kiss him anymore. He has to end this, has to end their relationship before he hurts himself any more. Or ends up ruining their friendship because he can’t control himself.

Bucky doesn’t deserve this.

“Steve.” His name sounds so good in Bucky’s mouth. “Stevie.” Bucky hands rest on Steve’s shoulders as he spins him around to face him. His brows are knotted with concern and his mouth is downturned, that mouth that Steve can’t stop thinking about. There’s a red stain on his cheek from where Natasha planted one on him, and Steve wants to rub it away. He wants to kiss Bucky until Bucky can’t think of anyone but him. Until Bucky’s just as drunk on Steve as Steve is on him.

“You okay?” Bucky asks.

“What are we doing, Buck?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“This. Us. We’re playing a game and I don’t…” Steve waves his hands trying to get Bucky to understand that it has to stop. He needs to stop what they’re doing before he undoes everything they are.

“You want to stop it, we’ll stop it.”

Steve doesn’t want to stop it.

“The ball’s in your court.” The ball isn’t in Steve’s court at all. Steve has no idea where the ball is right now but he’s certainly not in control of this.

“What do you want to do?” Steve doesn’t know. He wants to know what Bucky wants. He wants Bucky to want him.

“We should stop,” Steve says finally. His legs might give way if Bucky lets go of him. He rests his hands on Bucky’s chest, unable to look anywhere but him.

“Yeah. Probably.” Bucky swallows. He looks tired.

“We need to tell them.”

“That’s going to be a weird conversation.”

Steve laughs. Its weak and humorless, and it gets cut off short when Bucky’s mouth curls into a small smile. He’ll never tire of the intoxicating curves of Bucky’s mouth. he wants to know exactly what Bucky can do with that mouth. He bet it’s pretty marvelous.

“When should we tell them?” Bucky asks.

Tell his friends that the entire thing has been one big joke? Never. He never wants to admit the truth to them, because he doesn’t want to admit it to himself.

“Back at Marvel, I’ll do it then.”

“Yeah.”

“Sam was right.” Steve hates admitting it.

“How so?”

“We’ve crossed too many lines.” How is Steve supposed to forget how Bucky looks when he comes? How is he supposed to stop the way his heart trips over itself when Bucky smiles at him? That when Bucky touches him, it settles him in a way nothing else does. The way Bucky kisses. Fuck, Steve wants to kiss him again.

“Probably.”

Bucky’s so close to him. All it would take is for Steve just to lean up a little for one final kiss. A final hurrah before they step back and let things return to normal. Get it out of their system.

One last…

“How about—” Bucky starts just as Steve says, “What’s a few more lines crossed?” And then they’re kissing again and Steve doesn’t know who moved first, but he’s clinging to Bucky as if Bucky’s the lifeline that will stop him floating off into space. As if Bucky’s his oxygen tank.

The kiss is searing, and it isn’t a particularly _nice_ kiss but Steve’s too desperate for _nice_. He doesn’t want his final time with Bucky to be forgettable. He wants the memory burnt into Bucky’s mind as it will be in his.

He yanks on Bucky’s hair, and Bucky’s mouth opens against his, his fingers pressing into Steve’s shoulders in a way that makes Steve wants to drop to his knees right here in Tony’s hallway.

“Bedroom,” he manages to get out as Bucky’s hands grip his ass.

“Yeah,” Bucky grunts. He looks around for a room, and Steve decides now is the moment to latch onto Bucky’s neck and bite down, smiling against Bucky’s skin as Bucky moans, wrapping one arm around Steve to keep him there. Steve lets Bucky pull him into a room as he licks and sucks over the spot, determined to leave one final mark.

He’s certain he’s left a pretty neat bruise by the time Bucky is pushing him onto a bed. Steve lies there, chest heaving as he stares up at Bucky. Bucky with his slick lips and wide eyes.

Steve reaches up and with his thumb rubs Natasha’s lipstick off Bucky’s face.

“Bucky,” he says, cradling Bucky’s face in his hands.

“Is this what you want?” Bucky asks, breathless.

Last time they were in this position he’d made a joke. He can’t think of anything funny now.

He pulls Bucky down for another kiss as an answer.

He pushes at Bucky’s jacket, wrestling it off him and his shirt goes quickly too because he needs Bucky naked _now_. He hadn’t got to see the whole thing last time, and he wants it all.

He wants everything Bucky will give him.

Last time it had been about getting to know Bucky’s body, and now it’s about saying goodbye. Never forgetting it.

Bucky seems just as intent as Steve in reaching the point of nakedness. Steve wonders what it’d be like to be able to go slowly, really take his time learning every inch of Bucky’s body. What noises he’d make, where he’s most sensitive, how to reduce him to a shivering wreck in the shortest amount of time and how to string it out because they have all the time in the world.

Time. It’s the exact thing they don’t have. They’ve set the clock on their fake relationship, and now they’re hurtling toward the end. This right here is all he has, so he’s going to make the most of it.

He yanks his own shirt off, throwing it across the room.

There’s no insecurity about what Bucky will think of his too-skinny chest, not when Bucky’s tracing his hands down Steve’s sternum like it’s something sacred. Something worthy of worship. It feels like Bucky’s worshipping him when Bucky puts that mouth to good use and kisses, licks, bites his way across Steve’s chest, teeth grazing on his nipples. He can feel Bucky smiling, the echo on his skin as Bucky stops just before the waistband of Steve’s pants.

“Bucky,” Steve whispers. He needs it.

Bucky looks up, heavy eyes hooded as his fingers trace the band of Steve’s pants. His mouth is swollen and Steve near enough comes just imagining how it would look wrapped around his cock.

Another crossed line they can’t come back from.

In his alcohol and lust-fueled blaze Steve doesn’t care.

“You want me, Stevie?” Bucky asks, undoing the first button.

 _More than anything._ “Yes.”

Bucky gets Steve’s pants and boxers off in one and wraps his hand around Steve’s cock. He’s done with teasing, thank god, because Steve couldn’t handle much more of it. At the first feel of Bucky’s mouth on his dick, Steve’s gasps. He forces himself to rest on his elbows, to keep his eyes opens as Bucky starts on the head of his cock, slowly taking more and more into his mouth. He doesn’t want to miss a second.

Bucky turns his attention to Steve’s shaft, and Steve whines, fists twisting in the covers. It’s tantalizing but not enough, and Bucky’s name falls from Steve’s lips like a prayer, though he’s not sure what he’s begging for anymore. Just when Steve’s about to go mad, Bucky swallows him half down and starts working his hand, causing Steve to collapse on the bed. Turns out cock sucking is something else Bucky is incredible at. Is there anything Bucky can’t do when he puts his mind to it?

Steve doesn’t have the attention span to contemplate that too much because Bucky’s mouth is warm and wet, and the slurping noises he’s making are obscene. The music and sound of their friends throughout the apartment have dulled into the background. Steve’s complete world has narrowed to Bucky.

Bucky deep-throats Steve, and Steve’s hips fly up involuntarily. He cringes as Bucky gags and pulls off.

“Easy,” Bucky murmurs, voice raspy as he continues jerking Steve off in a lazy motion.

Steve stares at him, the trail of spit down his chin and the shine of his eyes. His mouth is exactly as wrecked and fantastic as Steve had imagined, better even.

“Fuck,” is all he can think to say, all his blood in his cock rather than his brain.

“Yeah?” Bucky’s cock-sucking voice is the sexiest thing Steve’s ever heard. He’s panting, not looking away from Steve.

“Yeah.” Steve surges forward, pulling Bucky in for another messy kiss.

“I wasn’t done!”

“Don’t care.” Steve pushes Bucky’s pants down and Bucky’s complaints die off as he gets with the program. Steve only stops kissing Bucky to let Bucky wriggle out of his skinny jeans. it’s such a ridiculous sight that some tension dissipates. They grin at each other.

It’s softer when they kiss again, Bucky on top of Steve, their dicks brushing as they gasp into each other’s mouths. Steve doesn’t think they’re in Tony’s room and has no clue where they’d get lube, but he’s happy with what they’re doing. “Buck.”

“Yeah?” Bucky presses a kiss to his shoulder.

“Roll over.” Bucky obeys, eyebrows raised in question until he catches onto Steve’s plan as he starts kissing and sucking his way down Bucky’s chest. He’d done this as part of the plan their first time together, back when they’d been faking it for show. He wants to do it genuinely now.

Bucky’s hands knot in his hair as Steve takes Bucky in his mouth, learning the heavyweight and musky taste. Figuring out exactly what makes Bucky make those musical gasps and moans until he pulls Steve off just before he’s about to come. They finish jerking each other off, breathing into each other’s mouths.

The way Bucky kisses him before he falls asleep makes Steve think maybe Bucky doesn’t want this to be their final time either.

He wakes up alone and naked in the bed. His clothes folded on the pillow beside him, and two people he can’t name passed out of the floor, but there’s no Bucky in sight. So that’s that.

One final time. It’s what Steve had promised himself, and it’s clear that’s all Bucky wanted too. Steve can take a hint.

 _It’s for the best_ , he tells himself as he pulls his clothes back on. Everything can go back to normal now.

Last night had been about trying to get Bucky out of his system. Except that’s not true. Last night had been because he’d wanted Bucky one final time. It had been purely selfish self-indulgence. Bucky’s not out of his system at all.

Standing there, abandoned in the spare room, all of Steve’s feelings slot into place. There’s no celebration, no harps and fireworks. Just the cold hard truth of the fact he has possibly been in love with Bucky for a really long time and he’s just never realized before.

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... that's that.... the final two chapters will be up Wednesday and Sunday <3 and for all those interested the first chapter of Bucky's POV is also up !!!
> 
> Kudos and Comments make you the best thing since sliced bread
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@gracie137blogs](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com) if you want to talk about the fic or anything !!!
> 
> If you enjoyed please do promote the fic on tumblr by reblogging this [post](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com/post/180660689685/fic-karmas-a-fake-orgasm)


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve fesses up to Clint and Tony, while Peggy drops some truth bombs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right on time !!! The final chapter is betaed too and will be up Sunday, and i owe a thousand thanks to TD for everything she's done and Syn for holding my hand. Terribly sorry for that last cliffhanger (lol) but I adored all your comments so much!!
> 
> So, without further ado, please enjoy

Steve’s palms are sweaty, and his heart’s running a thousand miles a second as Clint and Tony stare at him. They’ve only been back in their apartment an hour and Steve’s already sat them down. He doesn’t know what they’re thinking — a common theme for him nowadays.

He’s barely spoken to Bucky since that night.

He’s fucked it all up again.

“Steve,” Tony prompts, grounding Steve. He can at least try to unfuck this.

“I have something to tell you both.”

“Well, yeah,” Clint says. “I presumed that’s why you’ve sat us down.”

“Feels like being back in the principal’s office,” Tony says.

“Doesn’t it?” Clint laughs.

Their conversation causes Steve’s heart to clench at the echo of him and Bucky with Sam back when they’d first started their ruse. They should have listened to Sam.

“Steve, dude,” Clint says. “You gonna tell us what’s up?”

The genuine worry on their faces makes Steve feel about three feet tall.

“Is it Barnes?” Tony asks. “‘Cause he’s got like a few inches and some muscle on me, but I’m _pretty_ sure I could take him.”

“It’s not going to be Barnes,” Clint says. Something on Steve’s face makes him pause. “Is it?”

Steve sighs and pushes his fringe off his face.

“If it _is_ Barnes, I was kidding about kicking his ass ‘cause like, he’d probably win, but I could pay someone to—”

“Tony!” Clint says, smacking Tony’s arm. He leans closer to Steve. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. No. I mean… This is about Bucky,” Steve manages to get out. He doesn’t want to finish his sentence because when he does he has to accept that his and Bucky’s relationship is done for good. And maybe it was fake, but Steve’s feelings sure as hell aren’t, and he’s not ready to let go of it… but he has to.

“You’re not over, are you?” Clint asks, incredulous.

“No, they can’t be. You guys were great at mine on New Year’s. There’s no way—”

“Yeah.” The word hurts to get out, but not as much as the next ones will. “We’re—” Clint and Tony lean in closer to him. “We’re over, but—”

Steve doesn’t have time to finish his sentence because Clint and Tony leap up.

“Right, _Breakup Protocol_!” Tony announces, clapping his hands. “Clint, you get the blankets and the Netflix. I’ll order the entire local pizza menu and insist they bring Ben and Jerry’s as well.”

“Guys,” Steve tries, but they don’t stop. They had established _Breakup Protocol_ back in freshman year after Clint’s first girlfriend dumped him, and they have used it for every one of their relationship troubles since. Every high and low of Pepper and Tony’s before they’d figured things out; Peggy, Brock, and Sharon for Steve; and Clint’s desperate pining over Natasha, period.

It makes what he’s about to say even harder.

“Guys!

They don’t hear him.

“GUYS!”

They freeze, Tony halfway through rambling to the pizza place and Clint with a mountain of blankets in his arms.

“Yes, Bucky and I are over, but we were never really together.”

Clint doesn’t move, blinking at Steve in confusion.

“I’m going to have to call you back." Tony hangs up the call, frowning.

Steve supposes it’s time to explain the truth. He weakly remembers a church lesson about how the truth always comes out. It’s not a comforting memory.

“Bucky and I,” Steve starts before sighing when he notices Clint still hasn’t moved. “It’ll probably be better if you both sit down.”

Clint moves robotically, dropping onto the couch and cradling the blankets to his chest. “Is my hearing aid playing up, or did Steve say he and Bucky were never really together?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what he said.”

Steve winces. “It’s a… we were…” Tony gestures for him to go on, and Clint continues staring, brows knitted. “Faking it,” Steve manages finally. “We were faking it.”

“Faking it?” Tony echos. “As in, pretending to be together?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you joking? Clint, I can’t tell if he’s joking!” Clint doesn’t respond. “Clint! Tell me he’s joking!”

“I don’t think he’s joking.”

Steve swallows. “I’m not.”

“What the fuck, Steve?” Steve’s never seen Tony look so confused in his life, but the joke isn‘t so funny now.

“It was last term, and look, I love you guys, I really do, but things were getting so bad, and I wasn’t getting any sleep, and nothing I said seemed to make you guys stop doing all the shit you were doing like, keeping me up, and having stupidly loud sex, and leaving the place as a pigsty, and then Bucky suggested we fake date and show you guys what it was like, but it escalated, and it was never meant to go on this long, but it did and…” Steve trails off as Tony holds up his hand to speak.

“You’re telling me all of this was an elaborate prank?”

Steve’s shoulders sag. “Yes.”

“The dating?”

“Yeah.”

“The loud sex at all times of the night?”

“Yeah…”

“That night with the baking?!”

“Yeah…”

“Every little thing was to get back at us?”

It sounds bad when Tony puts it that way. “Not everything! A lot of the time was just me and Buck hanging out with you guys, but the times we were being pains in your asses… yeah, that was deliberate.”

“If it’s _just_ a prank why are you so broken up about it?” Clint asks.

“‘Well I’m hoping it’s ‘cause he _actually_ feels bad for lying to us for about two months!”

“I do! You have to understand I was so desperate, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Sam argued that—”

“Wilson knew?” Tony squawks. “We’re your roommates!”

Steve doesn’t have an answer to that because the point of the whole guise was that his roommates didn’t know.

“Were we the only ones who didn’t know?” Clint asks.

“No, only Sam was in on the truth.”

“You two deserve a fucking Oscar,” Tony says. “I mean, what the fuck? Were you really that desperate to mess with us?”

“It wasn’t—”

“Jesus, Rogers, I mean surely there was a middle ground somewhere?”

“I know, I didn’t thi—”

“Well, obviously!” Tony jumps to his feet, and Steve curls back in his chair. He’s not scared of Tony, but he never wanted to hurt him, and now he feels awful. He’s fucked everything up.

He’d just wanted to be comfortable in his own apartment.

“Tony, where are you going?” Clint calls as Tony storms across the apartment.

“I need a smoke!”

“Thought you’d quit.”

“Fine! I need fresh, wholesome air!” Tony slams the door behind him.

At the sound, Steve tugs the sleeves of his hoodie — okay, of Bucky’s hoodie because he’s that pathetic — over his hands and stares pathetically at the floor. He’d assumed Tony would find it funny. He’d hoped…

“You and Bucky were pretty convincing you know,” Clint says, breaking the silence.

“Yeah…” Steve keeps staring at the floor. “It got so out of hand. I didn’t want to upset you guys. I’m really sorry.”

Clint huffs, and when Steve looks up, he’s wearing a wry smile. “Tony’s not pissed about that, not really. He just hates seeming stupid, right?”

“Yeah…”

“And he just found out that you pulled the wool over his — all of our eyes — for the last couple of months, like literally Hollywood level acting. I never doubted you guys were into each other.” Clint’s words hurt, but Steve doesn’t interrupt. “And the reason you did it is because _we_ were making you feel like shit. We’re your friends, Steve, we’re not meant to make you feel like utter crap.”

“You weren’t that…” Steve trails off when Clint quirks his eyebrows. It had been that bad, and they both know it.

“He’s just pissed off at himself for not realizing it sooner. I know I am.” Steve chews on the sleeve of Bucky’s hoodie. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Steve says around a mouthful of hoodie.

Grinning, Clint jumps off of the sofa and onto Steve’s chair curling himself around Steve in a crushing hug, ignoring Steve’s complaints, which is fair enough, because Steve doesn’t want him to let go. Not really.

“Do you think this is that clear communication thing girls are always talking about?”

“Probably,” Steve says, face pressed into Clint’s neck.

“Seems boring. It’s way more fun to pretend to fuck your friend instead.” Steve shoves Clint away but manages as a small smile as Clint laughs at him.

“I mean, come on, you trying to tell me there was really nothing between you and Barnes?”

Steve thinks of Bucky’s smile and the way he looked at Steve, of his hands, and how he kissed. He wishes more than anything there had been something genuine between them, but Bucky had left him alone the morning after Tony’s. Steve had woken up naked and alone, and when he’d ventured into the chaos that was the main apartment, it was to find out that Sam and Bucky had already left.

A small part of him had hoped that morning, they’d wake up and realize it was true, that there was something genuine there. He certainly felt that way. However, for Bucky that wasn’t the case.

Steve knows how to take a hint. He won‘t press Bucky if he regrets it. It hurts though, how little they’ve spoken since. Steve had texted him later New Year’s Day, and Bucky had replied perfectly civilly, agreed to Steve’s plans to tell Clint and Tony, but that had been it.

When Steve had tried to apologize a few days later, Bucky hadn’t let him. However, he had asked for some time to get his head straight. Steve had accepted. It’s the least he owes him at this point. He’ll keep his love to himself.

“Steve?” Clint raises his eyebrows, mouth twisted with concern.

“Sorry.” Steve rubs a hand across his face. “Yeah, it’s cool between me and Buck. We knew what we were getting into.”

That’s a lie.

“Did you?” Clint frowns. “‘Cause it must’ve been intense, like you guys were all over each other.”

_You don’t know the half of it_ , Steve thinks. He shrugs. “Nah, it’s me and Buck.”

Clint looks like he wants to say something else, which is fair enough because Steve hardly knows what he means. He’s sure he and Bucky will get over this bump… they have to.

Steve won’t let them not be okay.

“Want to play Mario?”

“Sure.” Steve’s glad they’re done with the clear communication and emotional sharing part of the day.

They’re halfway through a level when Tony sweeps back into the room holding five boxes of pizza and a large plastic bag.

“Right, I’m going to speak and you’re going to listen.” He marches over and dumps the food on the coffee table. Steve pauses the game in anticipation. “I’m not happy that you lied to us, but I can’t say I don’t understand why you did it. And most of all I’m not happy that you had to resort to such an extreme. Though I am mildly proud of how far you took it. Like, that is some next level petty dedication, but I’m getting off topic. What I’m trying to say is I’ve possibly spent the last two-and-a-half years being a totally shitty roommate, which sucks, as I like to hope I’m not horrendous to hang out with. Also, you’re a pretty — okay, I’m not being fair there either — you’re a great roommate, and basically we were shitty and I’m sorry.”

“Can I speak now?” Steve asks.

Tony waves his hand. “If you must.”

“You’re not a _totally_ shitty roommate, and you’re certainly not horrendous to hang out with. You’re one of my closest friends, and I’m sorry I lied to you.”

At that Tony smiles, one of the rarer ones that is small and genuine. “I brought pizza and ice cream because it might not be a real breakup, but it’s still a sort of breakup.”

“No need to justify pizza and ice cream, my dude,” Clint says, grabbing a box and opening it eagerly.

It is a breakup in a way; Steve misses Bucky so much it hurts. Though he’s glad to have everything out in the open with Tony and Clint, and they’ll probably move forward from this even stronger friends, and perhaps be better at communicating too.

“I was so sure I was right about you and Barnes,” Tony says later.

“You’re just pissed off you’re wrong about something,” Clint says through a mouthful of pizza.

“Well, it is a rarity!”

Steve rolls his eyes even if Tony was _technically_ right about him and Bucky.

“You telling me you guys didn’t even fuck once? Like you can’t fake that sexual tension!”

Clint grunts in agreement.

“Bucky’s my friend.” Steve’s tone leaves no room for them to push the issue as he isn’t totally ready for 100% clear communication yet. He doesn’t miss the glances they shoot each other, but he’s grateful for the fact they don’t push it.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do yet, let alone how he’ll explain it to anyone else.

* * *

“Whatcha doing Mopey McMoperson?”

“I’m not moping.”

“Sure you’re not,” Tony says. “You’re brooding. Better?”

It’s not. However, the doughnut bag Tony drops in front of Steve is slightly better. _Slightly_.

Then he remembers it’s usually Bucky checking in on him when he locks himself up in the art department, and all momentary doughnut joy is gone. Not that Steve doesn’t appreciate the fact Tony and Clint are doing that for him, because he does. it’s really nice of them. It’s just… It’s been three weeks since he last properly spoke to Bucky, not for a lack of trying on Steve’s part. He’s messaged a couple of times and spotted Bucky around campus, but he’s always with Natasha, who doesn’t appear to be Steve’s biggest fan at the moment, which isn’t really fair, as Steve doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong, seeing as he’s giving Bucky the space he asked for. Or he’ll be with Okoye or T’Challa who don’t seem impressed with Steve either. The closest Steve gets to any vague warmth right now is Sam, who at least doesn’t look like he hates him.

Small blessings.

“You’re drawing Barnes again?”

“Are you still here?”

“Clint said I’m not allowed to leave till you eat your doughnut.”

Steve pulls a face and shoves half a doughnut into his mouth, glaring at Tony as he chews it. Unsurprisingly, Tony looks unfazed.

“Does Barnes have wonky teeth?”

“His front tooth, it’s kinda crooked.”

Tony hums, continuing to inspect Steve’s sketch. Steve will admit that repeatedly drawing Bucky isn’t the best way to get over him, but he can’t help it that Bucky’s his best muse. With his deep eyes, curved mouth, and dimpled chin, Steve’s fascinated by Bucky’s face, and he’ll never grow tired of drawing it.

“It’s good.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re not going to talk to me or Clint are you?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Steve is coping perfectly well with Bucky not talking to him. He’s dealing fine with the fact he may have ruined the best friendship of his life over a stupid prank and what’s basically a one-night stand — even if said one-night stands was amazing. Beyond amazing.

“I guess that’s that then,” Tony continues.

New Year’s with Bucky had been extraordinary. New Year’s Day had been pretty shit with the love realization and being left alone… but the night had been brilliant.

“Time to bring in the big guns.”

Steve freezes. “What?”

“Hello, Steve.”

“Peggy?” Turning slowly, he spies her in the doorway. She’s as gorgeous as ever but her face is set in an expression Steve recognizes and fears. She’s unimpressed, to say the least.

“I believe we’ve got some catching up to do.”

“Pegs,” Steve starts before the words die in his mouth as she fixes him with an unstoppable glare. He slumps on his stool, shoulders curling inward.

Tony clears his throat and pats Steve on the shoulder. “It’s for your own good.” Steve gazes at Tony, imploring him to free him from the ass kicking he’s about to receive, but Tony winks at Peggy before sauntering out of the studio, leaving them alone.

When he’s gone, Peggy shuts the door behind her and walks over to the paint-stained couch in the corner, sitting down and sighing. “Oh, Steve.”

It’s time to grovel. “I’m sorry I lied, but we agreed not to tell anyone the truth and—”

Peggy cuts him off. “I don’t care that you lied. Well, I do because I didn’t think I was just _anyone_.”

“You’re not. I meant that.”

“I know.” She taps the seat beside her, and he dutifully gets up and sits there. He buries his face in her shoulder, breathing in her familiar smell as she wraps her arms around him. “And you’re not just anyone to me either, which is why I hate that you’re locking yourself up in here and wallowing.”

“‘m not wallowing,” he mumbles, words half distorted.

“Has the definition of wallowing changed?”

Groaning, Steve tucks his legs up onto the couch and rests his head in Peggy’s lap, staring up at her. She gazes down at him with what he thinks is a fond yet exasperated smile and starts running her hand through his hair. “I think I fucked it up.”

“And what exactly is it that you fucked up?”

“My friendship with Bucky. I just…” Steve shrugs. “I tried so hard not to get too into the relationship, ‘cause I knew it was fake, I really did, but somewhere along the way I just… I fell for him, and now he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Peggy smooths his hair off his forehead. “Are you sure?”

“He’s made it pretty damn clear.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Sorry, I guess I just can’t imagine Bucky Barnes ever not wanting you.”

“Don’t say shit like that, Pegs. Everyone keeps saying shit like that! His friends teased him about pining after me! Tony always joked — or thought, I’m not even sure anymore — that we were together. I mean even you said you thought Bucky had a thing for me back when me and you were dating. And fuck, do you know how confusing it is hearing all of this, and then when I tell Bucky I’m interested he leaves me high and dry!”

Steve closes his eyes and sighs. He hadn’t meant to say all that, but he lost control somewhere. He’s lost total control.

Peggy’s hand stills. “You actually told Bucky you wanted him?”

“Yes! I mean… technically not… not really, no.” He’d hooked up with Bucky under the guise that they were about to end their fake relationship, and he needed it just one more time. He hadn’t told Bucky that he was ending their relationship because it was destroying him inside to pretend to be with him when Steve wanted it to be real. Steve wasn’t going to torture himself like that.

“You know I think you’re brilliant, right, Steve?” Steve opens his eyes, squinting up at her. “But you can be quite obtuse sometimes.”

“Sorry?”

“Oh, it’s not your fault, but even back when we got together, I near enough had to spell it out before you realized I was interested in you too.”

“You did?”

“Yes! I was going crazy because I was sure you had to be aware that I liked you, and I was so adamant you liked me back, yet you never responded to half of my flirting or made a move on me.”

“Fuck, sorry, Pegs.” Steve can’t believe he’s still finding new ways to realize just how bad his game with people he likes is. He’s truly a disaster bisexual who can’t flirt with anyone.

“Oh, it’s alright. This isn’t about me and you. This is about the fact that you’ve clearly been missing the signs everyone — including Bucky — has been laying down all this time to show you that he genuinely fancies you.”

Steve jackrabbits up off the couch and narrowly avoids headbutting Peggy. “What do you mean?”

“I mean listen to everything everyone has been telling you! Bucky is interested in you, I’m sure of it. In fact, I’m sure the only reason he’s avoiding you right now is because he doesn’t think you’re interested in him.”

“He can’t think that! He has to know how I feel! I mean I’m hardly subtle!” Steve’s pacing now.

“Did you or did you not just explicitly tell me that you’ve done absolutely nothing to let Bucky know that you’re interested in him?”

Steve deflates under Peggy’s steady gaze. “Well, I… I haven’t done nothing.” Steve gestures in a way he hopes implies to Peggy what transpired between him and Bucky on New Year’s.

“But did you _tell_ him?”

Steve deflates. “No…”

“Then how is he supposed to know? You’ve been moping around believing him uninterested in you after all.” He hasn’t been moping! Okay, maybe a little… “And why is that? Because he never explicitly told you either. Honestly, you two have the communication skills of a pair of mute mice.”

“Mice probably have some kind of sensory thing that makes them better communicators than us,” Steve says, and Peggy laughs, but he’s not really paying attention. His brain is trying to process things at about a thousand miles an hour, because if Peggy’s right and he’s really just been this utterly blind to everything… then that could mean that Bucky likes him too.

And the only way Steve’s going to ruin their friendship is if he continues to sit here and not tell Bucky exactly how he feels.

Bucky suggested the fake dating! Bucky made the relationship as easy as breathing! Bucky invited Steve and his mom into his house for Christmas! He _rebuilt_ Steve a record player! He got funny every time his friends joked about the way he’d felt for Steve in the past! He’d kissed Steve softly and nicely and wildly and desperately!

“Oh my God!”

“By Jove, he’s got it,” Peggy teases.

“I’m such an idiot.” Steve runs a hand through his hair and hurries about the room grabbing his things.

“Your words, not mine.”

“I’m actually _so_ stupid.”

“Steve,” Peggy says firmly, unfolding her legs and marching over to him. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she stares at him until he stills. “You’re not an idiot.”

“I feel like one.” A _huge_ one.

“Well you shouldn’t. Bucky never told you anything either, it’s not your fault you didn’t realize.”

He nods, chewing on his lip, a kernel of doubt growing in his chest. “What if you’re wrong? What if Bucky doesn’t actually want me?”

“Then at least you’ll have the truth. And it’ll hurt, yes, but Steve, would that truth really hurt more than you already do?”

Nothing could hurt Steve more than this does. This waiting and not understanding what he was supposed to do to make things better. He hadn’t known how to turn back time, and he hadn’t known what to say to Bucky. But now… at least now he has a plan of action. He has hope.

“You’re the literal best person I’ve ever met and I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“Right back at you, darling.” Peggy kisses his cheek before giving him a gentle shove. “Now go and get your Bucky.”

Steve grins, heart pounding in his chest with anticipation. He can’t believe he’s going to go and tell Bucky how he feels. He can’t believe Bucky might feel the same way back. If it’s really true then there’s no way he can let that possibility slip away from him.

“Here goes nothing.”

Here goes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the finish is just around the corner folks!!! Steve has _finally_ realised what we've all known the whole time!! Honestly thank you SO SO much to anyone who has left kudos, commented or sent nice messages on tumblr. This fic has been so much fun to write and I hope you've all enjoyed it too!!! See you Sunday <3
> 
> Kudos and comments are the best things since sliced bread and i love replying to all of them !!
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@gracie137blogs](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com) if you want to talk about the fic or anything !!!
> 
> If you enjoyed please do promote the fic on tumblr by reblogging this [post](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com/post/180660689685/fic-karmas-a-fake-orgasm)


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky successfully communicate. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is folks, the final chapter of a fic that was very much supposed to be 4k of me venting about my own roommates. Of course, it's now a lot bigger than that and I couldn't be happier !!! 
> 
> It wouldn't be here without the incredible TDcat beta-ing it and dealing with my _...liberal..._ take on grammar. And of course Synonym4Life for helping me when I was stuck, cheering me on, and just generally encouraging me, Steve and Bucky and every stupid decision made in this fic. All remaining mistakes in this are my own.
> 
> And of course, thank you to every single person who has read, kudos and left lovely comments or come to speak to me on tumblr, i appreciate and adore every one of you and have had so much fun these last couple of months. Also shout out to anyone joining now that the fic is complete, i'm sure you're brilliant too.
> 
> Anyway, without further ado, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are taking the stage.

It would be just Steve's luck to have an asthma attack on his way to make a big romantic declaration, though admittedly he could have pedalled from campus to Bucky’s apartment more slowly… However, he has to speak to Bucky _now_ before he forgets what he wants to say. Not that he knows what he wants to say, but he’s always been an _act first, think_ _late_ r kind of person. It gets more done.

Steeling himself, Steve presses the buzzer and waits.

Nothing.

He presses it again.

Nothing.

After the third attempt, Steve pulls out his phone and texts Sam.

_Me: WHERE ARE YOU?!_

_Samuel Wilson: On campus_

_Samuel Wilson: Why?_

_Me: I’m outside your apartment and can’t get in!_

_Samuel Wilson: …_

_Samuel Wilson: Why?_

_Me: I need to speak to Bucky_

Steve doesn’t have the time or patience to wait for Sam to compose the essay he’s typing. He watches the three dots bouncing up and down before sending:

_Me: It’s important_

Sam continues typing.

_Samuel Wilson: Look man, okay so you and Bucky are going through a rough patch and I’m sure you want to clear the air but I don‘t know if it’s the right time for that. Like I think it’s essential the two of you sit down and properly hash out everything that’s gone on between you with this fake relationship and work out how to move forward but I don’t rate springing it on him now is fair. Why don’t you text him and ask to meet for coffee later in the week?_

_Me: Because this isn’t about that!_

_Me: Well I mean it is but like, it’s not the sort of thing I can say over coffee_

_Samuel Wilson: You know you’re my friend, Steve, but Bucky’s not been in a great place about all this and I really need you to think through whatever you’re about to say to him_

And doesn’t that make Steve feel awful. He’d never meant to hurt Buck, certainly not over what seems to be a complete lack of communication. He never wants anything to hurt Bucky period, and the idea that Bucky’s not been able to talk to Steve about something… well… he hates it.

_Me: I’m in love with him._

_Me: Is that an acceptable thing to say?_

He’s done it. He’s said it out loud. Or texted it to Sam anyway…

_Samuel Wilson: You finally managed to pull your head out of your ass?_

Steve cringes.

_Me: Did everyone else know?_

_Samuel Wilson: Yep._

Steve is a huge idiot.

_Me: Steve Rogers, Olympic winner of the ‘head up own ass’ event_

_Samuel Wilson: And you presumed you’d never be good at sports_

_Samuel Wilson: And now here you are_ _*gold medal emoji*_

_Me: I’d really rather have just been good at running_

_Samuel Wilson: We can’t pick our talents_

_Samuel Wilson: For example I win gold at life_

_Me: You inspire me._

_Samuel Wilson: I try_

Snorting, Steve settles down to wait on Bucky’s front step. There’s a bitter January chill, and he should be wearing more layers, but he’s not going anywhere until he speaks to Bucky. He’s waited long enough as it is.

Steve’s in the middle of a rousing game of _Words With Friends_ against Tony and Clint when he hears:

“Steve?”

At the sound of Bucky’s voice, Steve nearly drops his phone on the ground but clings on, possibly because his fingers have frozen in place. He’s in the new coat his mom got him, but he hadn’t planned for sitting on the cold concrete, so he’d forgotten gloves and a scarf.

“Heya, Buck.” His teeth chatter.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Bucky sighs, stepping forward and pulling his own scarf off. “You’ll catch your death.”

“I need to speak to you.”

Bucky wraps the scarf around Steve’s neck slowly. “Couldn’t it wait?” There are bags under Bucky’s eyes, and his mouth is a thin line. He looks how Steve feels.

Steve shakes his head as Bucky sighs again. He’d really like his teeth to stop chattering. “Waited long enough as it is.”

Bucky stills, hands on the ends of his scarf from where he was tucking it into Steve’s collar. “Look, Steve, I know what this is going to be about—”

“I really don’t think you do.”

“No, I do.” Bucky looks resigned to his fate and Jesus, Steve’s really _has_ had his head up his ass for so long. How could he not realize that everything he’d wanted had been right in front of him, waiting for him to figure it out? “I know that—”

“I want to talk to you about that night at Tony’s,” Steve interrupts.

Bucky winces. “Yep. Look, I shouldn’t have—”

“No, Buck, listen to me! That night, I was trying to tell you something and I couldn’t because I was so damn scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way back and I was worried that if you didn’t feel the same way, then I’d be the one risking our friendship, and I couldn’t risk our friendship, I couldn’t risk you and, God I barely understood what was happening. Like, one day you were Bucky, you were my best friend and the guy I could count on for everything and the next…”

“Steve.” The way Bucky says his name is barely a whisper, but it grounds him. He doesn’t need to be scared, not of Bucky, not of the way he feels for Bucky. Loving Bucky is as easy as breathing if he just takes the plunge.

“And the next, you were still all of that, but I wanted more.”

Bucky’s fingers tighten on Steve’s coat, and his breath hitches. “Steve.”

“What I’m trying to say is the only reason I called off our fake dating is because I realized that I want to actually date you. Like for real. I want to do all the things we were doing, but for real and I want more. I want to keep watching films and hanging with our friends, but I want to take your hand for real. I want to _actually_ hook up ‘cause those real orgasms were fucking incredible. And I want to go on dates, and lie in my bed together and kiss you in public because I’m pretty sure the only thing better than being your fake boyfriend would be being your real one.” Steve swallows, covering Bucky’s hands with his own. “And you can tell me if I’ve read this completely wrong, if I’ve come to the wrong conclusion, and if I have then I’m sorry, but I reckon that’s what you want too. And if we both want each other, then what the fuck are we doing?” He needs to stop talking. “And I’m going to shut up now.”

At that, Bucky’s mouth curls up, slowly and steadily until he’s grinning at Steve with his eyes crinkled, like he’s smiling with every inch of his being. Steve finds himself smiling back.

“You want to be my boyfriend, Stevie?” Bucky asks, like he can’t quite believe it.

Steve wants to be his everything, but boyfriend sounds like a good place to start.

“Yeah, if you’ll have me.”

“If I’ll have you.” Bucky laughs, breathless and wild. “God, Stevie.”

“I know, I’ve been so fucking stupid, Buck. I’m so sorry, I—”

“What happened to shutting up?” Bucky teases, sliding his hands down Steve’s front until they’re resting on his hips. “Then again, you wouldn’t be you if you could actually shut that huge mouth of yours.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Nah,” Bucky says. “I like it.”

And then Steve doesn’t need to worry about rambling anymore because Bucky’s leaning in and kissing him. A real one, not for an audience and not because they’re drunk and desperate. It’s the way their first kiss should have been all along, soft and gentle, and just for them.

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck pulling them flush together. They’re hardly kissing, simply smiling and nipping each other’s lips, but Steve doesn’t care because this is better than he could have imagined.

How could he have ever been scared about taking this leap of faith? Bucky has always been there to catch him, and this time wasn’t any different.

“We should get inside,” Bucky says, grinning when Steve whines as he breaks the kiss. “I want to keep doing this and I won’t be able to if you get a cold.”

Steve pouts but doesn’t protest, instead reaching for Bucky’s hand and entwining their fingers the way he’d wanted to at Tony’s. Bucky glances at their hands and squeezes Steve’s before letting them into the building.

As they walk up the stairs, they don’t speak, but Steve’s happy to just hold Bucky’s hand. Also, if he opens his mouth, he’ll probably say something stupid… again. Though Bucky apparently likes Steve’s big mouth and how he’s never been able to shut up.

Even with Peggy Steve had still worried about impressing her, but with Bucky… Bucky knows Steve inside out. Bucky knows Steve’s flaws, the parts of him that many people don’t like. The fact he doesn’t always think before he acts, his stubbornness, his temper, and how when he sees something he doesn’t agree with he can’t stay quiet about it. Not to mention his clear obliviousness. Steve’s never had a lot of friends, and he will never be Mr. Popular. He knows there’s a lot about him that makes people shy away, but Bucky never has.

“Whatcha smiling about?”

Steve hadn’t realized he was. “You.”

Bucky laughs. “You gonna get all sappy on me now, Stevie?”

“Nah, I was just thinking about how stupid your face is.”

Nothing’s changed between them, not really.

Except now instead of _just_ rolling his eyes, Bucky rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, well, _you_ apparently like my stupid face.”

“I have bad eyesight.”

Bucky pulls him close, grinning down at him. “You’ve a pretty stupid face too, you know.”

“And _you_ like my stupid face.”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes as if he can’t quite believe he’s saying it out loud. “I do.”

Bucky brushes his lips against Steve’s hesitantly, as though ensuring the whole thing downstairs wasn’t a fluke. And well, Steve can’t have Bucky thinking he’s not all in, not for a second, so when Bucky moves back, Steve chases his mouth and kisses him again, more firmly to promise that he’s real, and he’s not going anywhere.

“You gonna let me unlock the door?” Bucky asks. Steve accepts the loss of Bucky’s mouth but doesn’t concede total defeat and kisses along Bucky’s jaw.

“Learn to multi-task.”

Bucky catches him for another kiss before laughing and jiggling the door. “Idiot.” His tone is fond.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

They head into Bucky’s apartment and sit down on his couch, the heavy _‘what now?’_ hanging between them.

“So,” Steve says.

“So.”

They laugh, and the sound clears the awkwardness.

“So,” Steve repeats. “What now?”

“I don’t know.” Bucky drags his hand through his hair. “It was a lot easier planning out a fake relationship.”

“Tell me about it.” Steve reaches out and runs his fingers across Bucky’s jaw, Bucky leaning into his touch. “You’re all stubbly.”

“Yeah… it’s been a bad few weeks.”

There’s a stab in Steve’s heart. He never wants to make Bucky hurt again. “I’m sorry.”

“S’not your fault.”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s not,” Bucky says firmly. “I mean I left you alone after Tony’s.”

“Why did you?”

Bucky sighs, slouching back on the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “It’s… it’s kinda complicated.”

“I’ve learnt about this thing called communication recently, and apparently it’s an absolute winner in relationships.”

Bucky shoves him, laughing. “No, it’s just… Do you know how long I’ve liked you, Steve?” Steve shakes his head. “Well, let’s just say Nat wasn’t exaggerating with what she said at Tony’s. I liked you from the second I saw you sitting in the corner of that party. Like, I _very_ much was flirting with you that night but you didn’t realize — too wrapped up in Peggy as I later learnt — and I assumed that would be that. But then you became my friend and those initial feelings just got stronger as I got to know you, and how incredible you are.”

“You think I‘m incredible?” Steve teases because he doesn’t know what to do with this information.

“Incredibly annoying.”

Steve pinches Bucky, and Bucky grabs his hand, and they end up wrestling on the couch. “You really liked me all that time?” Steve asks after a couple of minutes. He’s half in Bucky’s lap, close enough to see every detail of Bucky’s face. And now he’s allowed to stare.

Bucky shrugs. “Yeah, but not like I was desperately trailing after you or something, you know. Don’t think it was like that, ‘cause it wasn’t. I wasn’t sad, I was happy being your best friend, and even after all this shit I’d have still been happy just being your best friend. You’re…” Bucky purses his lips before shrugging again. “You’re you, Steve, and I just couldn’t help but like you more than I was supposed to.”

“Buck.” Steve has hardly coped with feeling this way about Bucky for a month, let alone how long Bucky’s been dealing with it. “Why didn’t you tell me.”

At that Bucky gives him a hard look. “Same reason you didn’t tell me. I didn’t want to risk our friendship. And I was hoping to get over you, like I _really_ tried to get over you, but nothing I did worked, so I lived with it… Until I thought it would be a good idea to suggest the whole fake dating thing anyway.”

“Yeah, why’d you do that?” Steve raises his eyebrows.

Bucky groans. “Don’t you start. I got that enough from Sam.”

“Oh, that’s why Sam was so pissy about it!”

“You think you got it bad.” Bucky whistles. “He reamed me out. So did Nat when I told her at Tony’s.”

“You told Natasha at Tony’s?”

“Yeah… Sorry, she was saying all that stuff about how long I’d liked you and I was having a complete meltdown about how I felt about you and I couldn’t figure out how you felt about me so I caved and told her.”

“Is that why you left Tony’s that morning? ‘Cause you didn’t know how I felt?”

Bucky nods. “Yeah… You’d called off the relationship with no hint that you were interested in trying a real thing and I was so sure you would regret everything we’d done that night that I panicked and ran… which was clearly pretty fucking stupid of me.”

Steve doesn’t blame Bucky for misunderstanding his intentions. He’s realized he hadn’t been as clear as he’d hoped. He’d still been holding back a piece of his heart, protecting himself the same way Bucky had been.

“We can be stupid together.” Steve kisses Bucky, and he hopes it conveys everything he’s feeling — the apologies for taking so long and the promise to make up for lost time. “Though gotta say as happy as I am with how it’s turned out, the fake dating was not your brightest idea.”

“Hey, as you just said, being stupid together is our thing! Also—” he smiles ruefully “—you weren’t happy, and all I wanted to do was make you happy again.”

Steve doesn’t know how to tell Bucky how much that means, and that he understands. He’d do anything to make Bucky happy too. “You’re so stupid.” Steve positions himself properly in Bucky’s lap with his arms over Bucky’s shoulders.

Bucky grins at him. “For you? Always.”

“We’re. So. Stupid,” Steve repeats, kissing Bucky between each word for emphasis.

“Nah. We got here eventually. That’s all that matters.” Steve’s not going to fight him on that, especially when Bucky laughs and tugs him closer, kissing him properly.

They’ve got all the time in the world to talk things through, but for now Steve’s happy to let Bucky kiss him stupid. Absolutely and thoroughly stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAHOO !!! so there it is folks, Karma's A Fake Orgasm is complete -- it seemed appropriate and necessary to have _stupid_ be the last word. Of course the series isn't over, and if you subscribe to the [series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1230458) I will be continuing with the Bucky POV prequel / companion fic [_Don't Get Sad, Get Steven_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17198996/chapters/40440377), also there is a one-shot coming because Bucky (aka me) made one too many rimming jokes earlier in the fic to not follow through on that. Ofc, you can also subscribe to [me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracie137/works) for all future Stucky fics in general!!
> 
> As always kudos and comments are the best things since sliced bread, and I treasure them all.
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@gracie137blogs](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com) if you want to talk about the fic or anything !!! And I'm also figuring out [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/gracie137) and [Dreamwidth](https://gracie137.dreamwidth.org)
> 
> If you enjoyed please do promote the fic on tumblr by reblogging this [post](http://gracie137blogs.tumblr.com/post/180660689685/fic-karmas-a-fake-orgasm)


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